All things uncomely and broken
by T.M.K.06
Summary: House's mother is ill, and needs help. How does it affect House to have his parents around. His cases also bring things from the past to new focus. How does House cope? Some angst, sadnes, death. Spoilers: Three Stories, S2: Autopsy, Daddy's boy.
1. The Loved One

_All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old_

Takes place after season 2, except no _No Reason _(nor any of the consequences thereof). Basically could include things from season 3, but since what eventually happens with Tritter is still open when I write this, I choose to leave him out of it all. No intentional ships but there may be some House/Cameron. Normal disclaimers apply. I really don't own them, but they just won't let me be until I take them out to play. Again: NOT MY FAULT!

House brings a special case to his ducklings and has to stay out of it himself. Can he do it? And how does he cope as not the doctor but the "loved one"?

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"I have a case for you," House exclaimed as he entered the diagnostics room where his three disciples were sitting round the table. "Woman. 68 years of age. Symptoms: drooping eyelids, right one more pronounced, eyes get tired but no blurring or double vision, experiences muscle fatigue in her fingers and occasional pain in the joints of her hands and wrists, fatigue and pain not necessarily concurrent. Medical file fairly complete but latest visit to a doctor of any kind took place a year ago. That's it. Foreman, you are in charge of the case. Have fun, kiddies!" He throws the file at Foreman, who catches it, but keeps on staring at House who turns to leave.

"What?" Chase's question stopped House on his way to his office, "Are you saying this is our case as in: you are staying out of it? Completely?"

"Yep," House confirms. "All yours. I'm not even consulting."

"That I find hard to believe," Foreman disclosed.

"But if her last visit to the doctor was a year ago, who referred her to us?" Cameron wanted to know.

"Well, her son insists that you look at her. She thinks the drooping eyelid is just gravity, but the son is of the opinion that it could be something a bit more serious," House shot at them.

"Have to say the son is right," Foreman conceded. "Blepharoptosis can indicate Lambert-Eaton, Horner's, brain tumour, diabetes, stroke just to name a few."

"Yep, the son is beside himself with worry," the sarcasm in House's voice was almost poisonous.

"He must be a lot of other things as well, to get you to take this case, especially from the ground up," Chase commented.

"But I'm not taking this case," House points out, "I have already assigned it to you three."

"But still," Cameron backed Chase up, "for you to give it even to us at this stage means he has a lot of clout."

"Have to agree with that sentiment," Foreman said. "So what is the deal? Who is this son?"

"Me," House stated and stepped into his office closing the door behind him.

If his plan was to close the discussion it failed. The ducklings did stand outside his door with their mouths hanging open for about ten seconds but after that they filed into his office demanding more information.

"Your mother?" Cameron gasped.

"Yes, I do have one," House griped, "you did meet her once, so this ought not to be such a surprise."

"She didn't come here for medical reasons, then," Foreman wanted to check, "if she didn't think there was anything wrong with her? But she had her file with her?"

"No, she didn't," House revealed. "She came to visit with me while her friend saw Wilson. I saw the eye and insisted that she checks in as well. Her doctor faxed her file to me this morning."

"Is your father with her?" Chase wanted to know.

"Not at the moment, but he will be joining her soon, I imagine."

"You don't know?" Cameron wondered.

"No," House said, "I haven't spoken to him and I'm not sure what my mother has told him about the developments so far."

"Well, we better get cracking with the tests and scans and what ever else we can think of to help us with the diagnosis," Foreman concluded and turned to go. Chase followed his example, but Cameron took a step closer to House.

"Don't worry, we will do our best to help your mother," she said to House.

House had been looking out of the window, but now he turned to face his troops. His eyes suddenly blazed with fire and ice. Not scary or threatening as such, just absolutely implacable. "Your best is not enough," he stated matter-of-factly. "I want more. I want your best, your worst, your indifferent and everything you right now cannot even imagine you have in you." He held them hypnotised with his gaze for a moment and then broke the contact letting them leave his office.

Out in the corridor Chase wiped his brow with his hand: "Frankly, I think we ought to just go and shoot ourselves right now and put ourselves out of the misery. This is going to be one tough case!"

"We can handle it," Foreman claimed. "It's not easy having him watch every step we take, but if we cannot handle this, then what kind of doctors are we! He has watched us before, he always holds us accountable, and this is no different. This must not be any different."

"But it's his mother!" Cameron exclaimed. "He must be so worried and he cannot ethically do anything. Just watch us handle this the best we can."

"He won't do just that. I bet he will not be able to stay out of it," Chase stated. "If it's something terminal, I'm not the one giving him the news!"

"Chase," Cameron admonished, "he is not going to be unreasonable!" That statement earned her two astonished stares. "Really! He does not expect us to perform miracle cures!"

"I agree. He does not expect miracle cures from us," Foreman conceded, "just miracle diagnostics!"

"Well, it could be something easy," Chase tried to cheer up, "I'm rooting for diabetes."

"That could explain the joint pain," Cameron supported him.

"Let's not forget that this is his mother!" Foreman reminded them. "Nothing is ever that easy with House and I'm convinced his mother will not be an exception to that rule!"

"There is no reason to borrow trouble," Cameron insisted. "It's possible this will be a simple case."

"Yeah, and House will ask you out one of these days without you blackmailing him into it!" Chase retorted.

"That was uncalled for!" Cameron huffed.

"Shut up, both of you," Foreman said as they approached Blythe House's room. "Let's not argue about the case before we have more information."

They stepped into the patient room and found Blythe House sitting in an armchair by her window. She was wearing a hospital gown but her own dressing robe. She greeted them with a smile that Cameron remembered from their previous meeting. She hadn't changed much in other ways either, just the eyelids looked different.

"Ah, the three musketeers," Blythe House greeted them. "I was expecting you. Let's see if I remember you, well I do remember Dr. Cameron since we have met before, but you two must be Drs Foreman and Chase."

"Indeed, Mrs House," Foreman agreed, "I see your son has kept you posted."

"Not really," Blythe corrected, "Greg doesn't really talk much about his work, but I insisted that he fills me in on some details since **he** insisted that I must stay here. I assume you are here to ask me questions and to stick needles in me and generally prod and poke?"

"If we are to find out what is wrong with you, yes, I'm afraid we need to do quite a number of tests," Cameron said.

"You think this is something serious then?" Blythe asked.

"We cannot know before we do the tests," Chase jumped in.

"I'm aware of that," Blythe pointed out, "but that was not what I asked. Though I rather think I got my answer. You are even worse liars than my son and he cannot lie to me at all."

"Mrs. House," it was Foreman's turn to try his bedside manner, "we don't know what is wrong with you. It is possible that it is something easy to treat, but nothing has ever been simple with your son, so we are assuming that as his mother, you will throw us a few loops, too."

"But basically you are telling me, that you agree with my son," Blythe summed up. "You don't think he is worrying just because I'm his mother, but that there really could be something seriously wrong with me though I have hardly any symptoms at all? You can tell me, he cannot hide it from me anyway."

"Yes," Chase threw in the towel, "that is what we are saying. But we cannot know for sure before the tests."

"Fine then," Blythe said, "you better take your samples and tests and after that, I better call my husband. Which will not make my son happy at all."


	2. Dear Doctor, I have read your play

"So Cuddy agreed to let your father stay in the hospital?" Wilson asked as he and House were watching a soap on the small TV House had – once again – brought to the clinic. This time there actually were no patients waiting in the waiting room, but Wilson suspected House would still have done what he was doing.

"Yes," House answered, "at least as long as none of your patients need a parent staying in. There is room in the quest quarters so she agreed after I had laid it a bit thick on how my father was too old to sleep on a couch and I was too pathetic to give up my bed for him."

"Would you have given up your bed if you weren't _pathetic?"_

"Hell no!" House replied. "I have no desire to have my Dad anywhere near my apartment, let alone actually staying over."

"Why are you so against him?" Wilson was puzzled. "He seems like a perfectly normal, pleasant man."

"He is," House agreed. "They are both perfectly pleasant people. And as far as I can tell he has been a perfectly fine husband. It's just as a father that he sucks."

"What did he do?!"

"You don't seriously expect me to explain to you my _childhood trauma_? To open up to your psychobabble? If you want soap, we are just watching one, you don't need to try and find any in my life."

"I'm just curious what your father could possibly have done to make you hate him," Wilson insisted.

"Well why don't you just go and read some Freud, I'm sure he has some interesting insights into the Oedipal tendencies boys have about their mothers," House griped.

"Problem with that is, had Freud ever met you, he would have needed a shrink himself to just get over the experience. Your brain is way too twisted for something as simple as a Freudian reading."

"Anyone's brains are too twisted for shrinks, that's why they are so useless."

"Which are useless? Brains or shrinks?" Wilson wanted clarification.

"All shrinks, most people's brains," House elucidated.

"Fine, have it your way then," Wilson conceded. "So when is he arriving?"

"Tomorrow. Round noon, I think."

"You're going to meet him at the airport?" Wilson asked.

"No, I have clinic duty," House pointed out. "I'm sending Cameron."

"You are going to do clinic duty when you have a perfectly good reason to avoid it?"

"Lesser of two evils," House pointed out, "by far!"

"I ... I don't think I know you with your parents around," Wilson wondered.

"What's to know?" House asked. "You know I hate people interfering in my personal life and you don't get much more personal than parents."

"I suppose," Wilson agreed. "So this means your Vicodin intake is going to increase dramatically for the next week or so?"

"Probably," House admitted, "so do you have your pad ready for prescriptions?"

"Have you even looked into other ways of pain management?" Wilson sighed exasperated.

"Well there's Ingrid," House drawled.

"I suppose I ought to be grateful that we found her, at least. But that is not enough. Your Vicodin intake is increasing to a point that is unhealthy. And you are getting immune to it. Soon you will need something stronger, and frankly, I don't think you really need it. Most of your pain is psychological!"

"Is that what you tell you patients, too?" House snapped. "It's all in your mind, get over it?"

"My patients have cancer; it's NOT all in their mind!" Wilson exclaimed.

"But my nerve-damage is?" House questioned. "You have done MRI and other tests on my leg, you know what was done to it, and you still decide that it is all on my mind."

"Not all, just some of it." Wilson tried to placate him. "I know you have chronic pain, but it increases when you have psychological problems! You know it does."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. _Dear Doctor, I have read your play, Which is a good one in its way, Purges the eyes, and moves the bowels, And drenches handkerchiefs like towels With tears that, in a flux of grief, Afford hysterical relief To shatter'd nerves and quicken'd pulses, Which your catastrophe convulses. I like your moral and machinery; Your plot, too, has such scope for scenery!_"

"Oh, shut up House," Wilson huffed. "No need to go all Byron on me, just because you think you have heard all this before."

"Well I have heard it before and on a regular basis, too," House threw back at Wilson. "Has it ever occurred to you that this is more about your addiction than mine?"

"What are you talking about?" Wilson stared at House. "I have no addictions."

"Come on!" House rolled his eyes. "You are addicted to need. You need this to be addiction because then I need you. I need you to either save me or to enable me. Both work for you, though saving me would be preferable. If I'm just genuinely in pain, there is nothing you can do but watch from the sidelines."

"Oh, go to Hell, House!" Wilson gave him a disgusted look. "That is just sick. Just because I worry about you does not mean I'm addicted to looking after you."

"I see," House mused. "It's ok for you to psychobabble me, but I cannot psychobabble you. Now how is that fair?"

"Fine, I shut up," Wilson agreed finally. "You can come to me when you need a new prescription. But don't think we are not returning to this subject once your parents are gone."

"I never thought otherwise," House said. "You return to this subject on regular basis anyway, no matter where my parents may be."

"Anyway, how is your mother?"

"Don't know," House admitted. "The ducklings went to see her about an hour ago, and Foreman ordered a whole battery of tests. I don't think they have any results yet and I made myself scarce before they returned to talk the differential."

"You really are going to stay out of it?" Wilson was stupefied. "It's your Mother!"

"Which is why I have to stay out of it."

"Nothing ever makes you stay out of anything!"

"Ordinarily that is true. But she is the only person in this world that I cannot be objective about, no matter what. I need to stay out of it, if my team is to find out what is wrong with her."

"But you are a brilliant diagnostician!" Wilson exclaimed. "Surely your team wants your input."

"They may want it, but they are better off without it," House said. "I always obsess about my cases. I want to solve them, and sometimes I come up with totally outrageous ideas – only they fit! They work and they are nearly always right. This time I don't know if the ideas I have in my head work because they do fit or because I want them to fit – or even fear them. I still have too much influence on my ducklings. I cannot interfere because they would trust me, and they might miss something important because I cannot trust myself."

"Hmm, that does make sense in a weird way," Wilson had to agree.

"You know weird works for me," House pointed out.

"Don't I know it!" Wilson sighed. "But what do you mean with _still having too much influence_? Are you expecting them to start disbelieving you or something?"

"Eventually the ducklings will grow up. They may even end up as swans. That is the nature of things. And they will move on, leaving me behind. They may still respect me, but they no longer trust me blindly, because they have learned to see things for themselves. And they will have learned to trust themselves – even when they disagree with me. My opinion will cease to matter, because they will know themselves and know that that is the only significant opinion to have: what you think of yourself."

"That's philosophical!" Wilson noted.

"I get that way sometimes," House said sheepishly, "usually it means I haven't eaten anything in a while. I think I go and get a Reuben from the cafeteria."

"I'll join you. But I will not be paying this time!"

"Of course not," House said, "when have I ever made you pay for my lunches."

"Only all the time," Wilson punched him. "Shall we stop in your Mother's room on the way?"

"Might as well," House agreed, "though I don't know if she is in there. I'm sure Foreman has her scheduled for MRI at least if not CT and angiogram as well."

"At least he is going to be thorough!"

"Apart from the fact that he wouldn't dare be anything else with my mother," House pointed out, "it is also in his nature. He will make a fine Head of Neurology one of these days."

"You don't think he will be a diagnostician then?" Wilson asked.

"No. Not him," House stated.

"Not him? Who then? Cameron?"

"Cameron? I'm not sure about her yet, but I doubt diagnostics will be her forte. No it's Chase I expect to follow in my footsteps, so to speak. If he ever steps out of his shadows and decides to become a doctor, that is."

His statement earned him a very puzzled look from Wilson. Chase? Hmm, that was an unexpected idea. Wasn't Chase just a tad immature? But obviously House knew him better; after all he had been with House the longest of the three ducklings. Still, maybe Wilson needed to take a closer look at the Aussie.


	3. Baby pictures

Blythe House had not been in her room when House and Wilson stopped there on their way to lunch, but she was there when they came back. Wilson had a patient, so he just greeted her shortly, but House stayed to talk with his mother.

"So are you going to fill me in on your troopers now?" Blythe asked.

"Mum!" House moaned. "They are not that interesting."

"But as they are my doctors," she pointed out, "I think I would like to know what kinds of people have my life in their hands."

"Don't you think that my letting them get their said hands on your life is enough of a recommendation?" House pretended to be insulted.

"I'm sure it is. And I'm equally sure that you are keeping an eye on them, but that is still not the same as knowing them, or having your opinion of them."

"They are doctors; they work for me and with me and they make a good team. What else is there?" House tried to prevaricate.

"Fine, I suppose that I just have to talk with them myself." Blythe sighed. "At least Dr. Cameron looks like a person who would appreciate your baby photos and mother's reminiscences of your childhood."

"You wouldn't!" House was horrified.

"Well why not?" Blythe could do the innocent look to perfection as well. "I'm sure that would break the ice just nicely and bring forth all sorts of revelations from her as well."

"Fine!" House caved in. "I will tell you what I can about my ducklings. But if they find out and start blaming me I will tell that I was coerced and blackmailed into it."

"I am duly warned and will take all the blame if need be." Blythe graciously agreed.

"You don't really have any of my baby pictures with you, have you?" House had to ask.

"No, I don't," she said. "But I could ask your father to bring some, if I need some leverage."

"You are a hard woman, Mother!" House grumbled.

"Relax. They are not that bad. At least we don't have any pictures of you doing anything truly embarrassing like crawling on a sheepskin in your diaper or anything."

"Why is that, by the way," House asked. "If I remember correctly that is exactly the sort of picture Grand-mother would have wanted to have of me? Did you talk her out of it or what?"

"Oh no, nobody could talk my mother out of anything," Blythe sighed. "No, that is not why. The reason such a picture was never taken was you. My mother was all set on taking it. Half her friends had such pictures of their grandchildren. She brought her camera and a sheepskin to the house when you were about eight months old and made ready to take the picture. The moment she put you on the sheepskin you started to yell blue murder! You would not stay still or quiet no matter what she tried. Finally your father rescued you and told my mother that you were too smart to let her take a picture like that of you."

"Wow! Pity you didn't get a picture of **that**," House said with some sarcasm. "Must have been the only time Father ever approved of me or my actions."

"Greg!" Blythe pleaded. "He did approve of you plenty of times."

"Never mind, I'm sorry Mother, didn't mean to bring that in now."

"It's ok. But you were supposed to tell me about your ducklings? Was that what you called them?"

"My entourage, yeah, I don't really know what to tell you."

"Well start with Dr. Foreman, you did put him in charge of my case didn't you?"

"I did. Right now he is the best choice. He has leadership qualities, but they need a bit honing. He can take charge, but if he needs to take charge of his peers or people he normally sees as his friends, he may end up having them walk all over him. He needs to understand that when you lead, you may end up being disliked. He is an excellent neurologist, and he will get this leadership thing right, too, in time. He will end up as a leading authority in his field one of these days – if I can break him off his habit of playing safe."

"Isn't playing safe a good quality in a doctor?" Blythe asked.

"Up to a point it is, but if it prevents you from keeping an open mind, then no. If the doctor uses both his hands to cover his ass he has no hands left to take care of his patient."

"That does not sound like the man I met this morning!"

"No, Foreman has never used both his hands to cover his ass, I have to admit that. But he does like to play things safe. Due to his background no doubt."

"What is his background?" Blythe wanted to know.

"Basically his was a decent family but unfortunate neighbourhood. He did get into trouble as a juvie, but he cleaned up his act and made it to medical school. But though that gives him street-smarts, it also makes him slightly afraid. He nearly had a bad end, and now he is afraid that if he breaks the rules he will slip again."

"You don't think he will?"

"He is not an impressionable youth anymore. He has a pretty clear idea of who he is and what he can do. If he learns not to fear his so called dark side, he will learn to use it to his – and his patients – advantage, and he will be a better doctor for it. I have faith in him. He will make a very fine doctor one of these days."

"You are proud of having had an influence on that?" Blythe asked.

"My feelings on that matter are not important. If he learns to be proud of himself, if he learns that the approval of others is not what matters but your own knowledge that you have done your all is all you need, I'm satisfied. And it doesn't even matter where he learned it from; me or himself or someone else entirely." House mused.

"What about Dr. Cameron, then," Blythe broke into his thoughts. "She seems like a nice young lady."

"Oh, yes. Allison Cameron. She is so sweet I'm about to get diabetes from her."

"Gregory!"

"No, I didn't really mean that." House nearly apologised. "I'm not sure about her as yet. She is a good doctor, but she cares too much. She just will put herself in harms way. I'm not sure what made her go to medical school, but I'm not sure it was a right choice for her. Not that I doubt her abilities or dedication, but she is setting herself up to be hurt and I don't know how much she can take."

"You worry about her?"

"Maybe. I don't know if she has the strength this profession needs. At least if she is pursuing a real career in her chosen field."

"She is an immunologist, isn't she? That is what you said."

"Yes. Of course she could go into research and find the cure for common cold, but I don't know. Family practise would seem more her field right now."

"She seems like a caring person," Blythe agreed. After a moment she went on: "She seems to care about you, too?"

"That's just her nature," House tried to explain, but Blythe's eyes demanded more. "Well, she did imagine herself in love with me at first. But I'm sure she is over it."

"What makes you sure?"

"We had a date, and it didn't really go well. I'm too old and too set on my ways for her."

"Don't you think that is her decision?" Blythe asked.

"What do you mean, Mother?"

"She is not a child, nor is she half as naïve as you seem to think. If she thinks you are not too old or too damaged or whatever for her, that ought to be her decision. Now if **you** don't like her or want her, that is – of course – your decision, but don't make up **her** mind for her."

"I'm not doing that," House said, very unconvincingly. "But even if I did, it's too late. She has come to her senses."

"If you say so," was all he got out of her.

"I do."

"Fine. So tell me about your young Australian then. What kind of a doctor is he?"

"Right now he is no kind of doctor at all," was the answer.

"What do you mean?" Blythe asked.

"He hasn't decided yet if he wants to be a doctor. He has some big shadows to fight first."

"What shadows?"

"His father was a world famous doctor and Chase was pretty much conceived in order to follow in his footsteps and carry on his brilliance."

"That does not sound very ... nice."

"It wasn't. Chase's father – for what I can figure out – pretty much married for the sole purpose of begetting a son who would carry on the family name and family tradition of brilliance in medicine. Rowan Chase did get what he wanted. And once he had his son, he pretty much discarded the wife and put his son on hold. He didn't really take any interest in Chase until he needed to push him in the _right _direction. He was lucky, I suppose. Robert is brilliant and he did get a medical degree. The problem is that he is brilliant enough to be anything he wants and being a doctor is pretty much the only thing he does **not **want to be." House explained.

"His father forced him?" Blythe asked.

"Yep. And I cannot totally disagree with him. Chase has great instincts. He is capable of connecting the dots in an unusual way; he has a feel to things. He can leap into conclusions that at first look are insane, but turn out to be right. He rarely lets himself do that, but there has been a few times when I have left something alone in order to focus on just making the right diagnosis and Chase has come through in an almost spectacular way. Once we had a patient who lost the sight in his left eye. I decided to let it go, as his life was in imminent danger, but Chase came up with a pretty brilliant solution to the problem." House told his mother.

"What kind of solution and what was the problem?" she wanted to know.

"The boy had a blood clot in his eye and due to his condition we could not go in and yank it out nor could we use blood thinners to remove it, but Chase suggested that we remove some of the liquid in the eye itself to give the clot room to move out. It worked and once we found out what was wrong with him, his recovery was complete and we didn't need to sacrifice his eyesight."

"And you complemented Chase on his idea?"

"I told him that it was a good idea, but that he ought to have thought of it sooner."

"That was rather harsh! Couldn't you just have complemented him and leave it at that?"

"No. Not if I'm to push him into deciding if he wants to be a doctor or something else." House said.

"Is that what you are supposed to do?" Blythe asked.

"That is all I can do. He is living in the shadow of his father and that is making it impossible for him to know what he really wants to do, or even what he can do. I know some of the shadow he lives in is also mine, he does associate me with his father in many ways, but the primary problem he has is his father. Rowan Chase may have been a brilliant doctor, but as a father... I really don't think he had any right to become a father at all. I know he came from Eastern Europe, and he probably did not have the happiest of childhoods, but some things you just don't have the right to inflict on your children. If he was so desperate to preserve his genes for the next generation he ought to have just become a sperm donor!"

"Is that why you empathise with Robert? Because you think you see similarities between you two?" Blythe asked almost apprehensively.

"No, Mother, I don't," House reassured her. "I do hold some things against Father, always will, but Rowan Chase was a real piece of work. I met him once and was not impressed. Rowan was truly incapable of loving anyone. Father and I just don't get along. Dad just never has understood me. I know he loves me, according to his lights, it's just not enough to make up for some other things. No, my wombat had a much harder deal with his father. And he didn't really have his mother there for him either."

"But **you** are here for him now?"

"I'm not his parent and I will not take on that role. All I can do is to try and push him till he makes up his mind where he wants to be pushed to."

"Well, I have to say you have an interesting entourage! I think I need to get to know them better."

"Just as long as you don't use my baby pictures to lure them into your web!"


	4. Georgia on my mind

House did not really mind talking to his mother about his ducklings, it was just that he was totally out of practise in sharing his life – even if it was only work. Sure he did on occasion discuss things with Wilson, but that was nearly always on his own terms, not because Wilson demanded to know. And he knew that his mother saw much more than Wilson ever could. She was the one person in his life he knew he could never fool. She read him like an open book and she knew, every time, when something was just flippant and when something was flippant because it hid a deeper truth. A truth he would rather nobody knew.

"How do your ducklings see you?" Blythe asked him, after some silence.

"How would I know, I'm not a mind reader!" House tried to scoff.

"Sometimes I think you are," Blythe disagreed. "There are times you see things that nobody else does."

"But that is only with things that matter to me," House pointed out. "What my troopers think of me is not really important – as long as they do what I want."

"I would still like to know," Blythe said.

"Well, I think Foreman doesn't know if he hates me or reveres me. So far my opinion seems to matter to him, though he tries to pretend – even to himself – that it really doesn't. Chase associates me with his father in many ways, though I think that, too, is subconscious. He almost fears me, but also wants my approval. But even so, he is also indifferent because he has yet to decide if all this matters at all. Once he knows he wants to be a doctor, things will heat up. I don't actually know if I'm looking forward to that or not."

"And Allison?" Blythe prompted.

"Allison, the eternal nurturer, is a bit of a puzzle. She ought to hate me, but still, the moment I have the sniffles she is there trying to take care of me. She cannot help but care for the cripple. "

"She does not feel sorry for you!"

"No? She feels sorry for everyone. She makes friends with terminal patients just so that they will have someone to cry when they die. I do admire her caring up to a point, but she is also burning herself out." House huffed.

"You do worry about her!" Blythe accused him smilingly.

"Maybe I do. I'm fairly sure that she will end up sacrificing her career to marry some insane scientist or some other man who is dedicating his life to one cause or another. Then she will spend the rest of her life serving him hand and foot and once he is dead, she will carry on his work in his name – and do better work he ever did but still give all credit to him." House summed up caustically.

"Don't you think you ought to acknowledge – at least to yourself – that you really care about her?" Blythe asked him.

"Mother... let be, please," House said quietly. He looked out of the window trying to avoid his mother's seeing gaze. As he looked out towards the entrance of the clinic he saw something that caught his attention. "That's Georgia! What is she doing here now?"

"Georgia?" Blythe wondered.

"Yes, she is coming in with her son and she is in a wheelchair, that's not good." House said.

"You still didn't tell me who she is," Blythe repeated.

"Georgia is a cool lady who totally has the hots for me!" House explained. "No, she is a patient of mine and I saw her only two weeks ago. For her to need a wheelchair to get here is not a good sign. I have to go and see what is going on."

"Can I come?" Blythe asked.

"Oh no, not until I know what is wrong with her. Meeting my mother might be too much for her heart," House said. "Or if not for her heart, then possibly mine. She might start hearing wedding bells, you know." House gave his mother a kiss and turned to leave the room. "If it is ok, I will introduce her to you. Just keep an open mind, will you." And with that he left the room.

----

When House got to the clinic Georgia was already there with her son, who was trying to get the nurse page House. House limped to them.

"Now, Georgia, you ought to know that you don't need to get yourself into a bad enough shape to need a wheelchair before you can come and see me!"

"Oh, I know," Georgia smiled, "but I didn't think this was anything serious and I had just seen you."

"Two weeks ago! That is an eternity," House admonished her, turning then to the nurse at the counter. "Is there an exam room free?"

"Well, I don't know for sure," Nurse Brenda said. "Dr. House is supposed to be seeing patients in exam room three, but I haven't seen anyone go in."

"One of these days..." House grumbled but lead the way to the exam room. He didn't need to do a very thorough examination before he diagnosed pneumonia.

"Ok, I'm asking the nurse to admit you and while she does that, I want to have a word with your son."

"Oh, you want me to stay, that will be fun," Georgia trilled.

"Not with pneumonia, I'm afraid. But I will ask the nurse to put you next door to my mother. That way I don't need to put extra stress on my bum leg!"

"Is your mother here, too?" Georgia was delighted.

"Yes she is, and she has already expressed interest in meeting you," House revealed. "But you must still remember that you are my patient and I'm your doctor! So remember to behave. Now, will you let the nurse take care of you, while I have that word with your son?"

"Well, if you insist. I promise to behave."

"Good!" House took her son by the arm and left the room. "So what happened?" He asked.

"You know that I have arranged for her to live in an assisted housing? They do have a doctor on call there, but the doctor changed about a month ago. I have told them that you are her primary physician, but when she got the sniffles three days ago, they did not bring her here, but just contacted the doctor they have. I have been away on business for four days, and when I got back, she was having pain breathing and was generally just totally miserable. Well, at least as miserable as she can be, as you know."

"Yes, I do know."

"Anyway, I didn't think bed rest and liquids were going to help her, so I just brought her here right away."

"Good for you!" House said. "She needs antibiotics and the doctor does not sound like one who knows what he is doing. Pneumonia is always a risk with the elderly."

"Well you would know more about that, but even I could see that things were not right with Mother. Is she going to be ok now?"

"You can never tell for sure with the elderly, but she has been in good health till now, so I see no reason why a course of antibiotics shouldn't cure her just fine."

"Good, I can then leave her in your care. I need to go and see that quack they call a doctor."

"Want some company? I'd like to say a few choice words to him myself."

"No, I don't think I need any assistance. I haven't eaten since breakfast, so I'm in a fine mood to tell him just exactly what he can do with his correspondence medical degree!"

"Good for you! And don't worry too much, I have Georgia covered."

"Thanks. Did you say your mother was here, too?" Georgia's son asked.

"Yes, she needs some tests done. She will enjoy meeting your mother, I'm sure," House dismissed.

"You do realize you may be getting yourself into trouble with that?"

"I'll live. But does this mean you have come to terms with your mother's condition?"

"Well, it is a bit embarrassing, there is no denying it. But she is happy. That is all she has ever wanted for me, so how can I grudge the same for her? Sure it's the result of a brain damage, but so what. She is happy, she looks forward to every day, and she no longer misses my father the way she used to. Not that she has forgotten him or anything, but she is not lonely and – as I said – she is happy. Yes, I'm fine with it. Well, most of the time."

"That is good enough. Now, don't worry about her, we will take good care of her."

"Thanks. I'll drop by later today, once she has settled and I have concluded my business."


	5. It can not be Lupus

_By this point of the story I need to try and appear like I knew something about things medical. I don't, so just go with it. I have tried to look up enough information to make it all sound half-way possible, but don't take any of the information you read here to the bank – or anywhere else, either! _

_Thanks for the reviews and I hope you keep on enjoying the fruits of my labour. _

_-------------------_

The second time that day House walked into the diagnostics room with a patient file and again all his three musketeers were there. This time, though, a silence descended into the room when House entered. He could see the white board with his mother's symptoms on it and they were also looking at the MRI of her chest. House turned to Chase first and gave him the file in his hand.

"I need you to do an X-ray and the usual tests to confirm pneumonia. I want to be sure it is just a common or garden variety that Georgia has," having said that House walked over to take a look at the MRI. Foreman tried to say something but House raised a hand shushing him. He studied the image for a moment and then he turned back to Chase. "You do know Georgia, don't you?"

"Hmm, I haven't met her, but I have heard about her," Chase nearly stammered. "If she is the one I think."

"She is. So be careful, she might really go for your accent," House warned him glibly. "If she gets too frisky with you, you can tell her that you don't want to risk your job by making me jealous."

"Ok, I'll keep that in mind," Chase answered cautiously. He could not quite wrap his mind round the idea that House obviously was not going to say anything about the MRI. How could he not?

House took his mother's file and glanced through the test results, but again said nothing. Foreman and Cameron were both on the verge of saying something, but decided against it. But they were still waiting for House to ask something. He didn't. He just put the file back on the table and then walked out of the door. The trio was just exchanging puzzled glances when he turned back.

"When are you taking your findings to my mother?"

"As soon as we have finished discussing them, half an hour, I think," Foreman said.

"Fine," House turned to go but stopped again, this time he turned towards Chase again. "When you deal with Georgia, remember that her brain damage is limited to the pleasure centre. She may be giddy, and she sure is that, but she is not senile." After that he walked out. Cameron noticed that he was leaning rather heavily on his cane.

"Who the hell was that?" Chase gasped as soon as House was out of earshot. "He looked like House and had the same voice, but no way was that House!"

"He's never been like that!" Cameron exclaimed. "He must be really worried about his mother."

"I'm not sure he is capable of worrying about anyone," Foreman scoffed, though there was an element of doubt in his voice. "But I would never, ever have expected him to truly stay out of this. He must be testing us or something. He has to know what is wrong with his mother and he is just messing with us."

"He wouldn't do that!" Cameron protested.

"Oh yes, he would," Chase supported Foreman. "Anything he can do to mess us, he will. This just means that if we don't get this right, our lives will not be worth living. What were you saying before he came in Foreman?"

"I was saying that the thymoma we found may be an explanation for the drooping eyelids, but no way does it explain the pain and muscle fatigue in her hands."

"You are thinking that the thymoma might be an additional symptom and not the problem itself?" Chase asked.

"But if the thymoma is a symptom, then what she has is almost definitely a paraneoplastic syndrome or an autoimmune disorder. If it's paraneoplastic, then the thymoma is probably malignant and has metastesised," Cameron said unhappily.

"I may be too optimistic, but it looks nice and contained to me," Foreman mused looking at the MRI.

"I hate to sound like the voice of doom," Chase drawled, "but if the thymoma is not cancerous, we may very well be looking at our first case of Lupus."

"It's never Lupus," Cameron sounded distressed.

"I hope not!" Foreman sighed. "But autoimmune does seem likeliest. If the thymoma is a symptom we have Lambert-Eaton on the table still, possibly MS and rheumatoid artrhitis."

"She doesn't really have enough symptoms for us to go on," Chase grumbled. "Thymomas are not that uncommon in people, most of them are found when doctors are looking for something else entirely! It coud be unrelated to her hands or even her eyes."

"Now there's a cheerful thought," Foreman said sarcastically. "But I think for now we take the thymoma as a symptom. We have to operate on it and see if it's benign or malignant. Once we know that, we go on from there. If it's benign, then we do as many tests on as many autoimune disorders as we can and we are bound to at least get more information, if nothing else. Though I think we should do the Lupus test immediately."

"You are in charge, Foreman," Chase reminded him.

"Don't I know!" was the resigned answer. "Cameron, would you do the test, since Chase has to go to Georgia."

"So what are you going to tell Mrs. House?" Cameron asked.

"The truth," Foreman shrugged his shoulders, "not much else to do. House was right when he called his mother a human lie detector. Besides, House saw the results, I'm sure he made his conclusions as well, I'm not going to get caught lying to his mother. The best I can do is to try and get away with telling her only the things we know without having to go into the things we suspect or fear."

----------------------------

Foreman and Chase walked to Blythe's room but only Foreman went in. Chase went next door to get Georgia for her x-ray and tests. He found the old lady sitting in bed waiting for him.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Chase and Dr. House sent me over to take you to your x-ray," Chase greeted her.

"Oh my!" Georgia smiled delightedly. "Dr. House was right; you do have a _killer accent and great hair_. It's almost a shame I'm not such a flibbertigibbet as to change the object of my affections on a whim."

"Actually, I'm happy to hear that," Chase couldn't help but smile, too. "Dr. House already threatened both my hair and my accent if I try and steal his best girl from him."

"Did he really? Georgia trilled. "How sweet of him." She saw the look on Chase's face and asked: "Don't you think he is sweet?"

"He is my boss," Chase fumbled. "Sweet is not necessarily the side of him I get to see the most often. I think he saves it for his lady-friends."

"Could be," Georgia admitted. "He did not get along with my son so well at first. But then they had a nice man-to-man talk and it has got better. At least my son no longer snarls at him. I'm glad, because it was most unbecoming. I'm sure I raised my son better than that."

Chase brought the wheelchair next to the bed. "Now Milady, your chariot awaits. We need to get you better, or Dr. House will have my hide."

"Oh, we cannot have that," Georgia agreed as Chase helped her to the chair. "I'm sure the nurses around here would be devastated if something was to happen to you."

"I would certainly like to think so, but since I don't have much time to go around charming them, I really couldn't say for sure."

"Does Dr. House keep you so busy at work then?" Georgia asked as Chase wheeled her down the corridor. As they went by Blythe House's room, Chase could see her and House with Foreman in there. He wished him good luck in his thoughts, rather you than me, mate.

-------------------

Foreman was sweating internally, though outside he tried to appear calm and collected. He was talking directly to Blythe, but he could feel House's presence in the room with every fibre of his being. He was so not bringing Lupus into this conversation.

"We could do a biopsy on the tumour, but since it really has to be removed anyway, we think it would be best to just check it during the operation. As far as we can tell from the MRI it should be benign, but we won't know for sure until we get a closer look." Foreman explained.

"And once you have the tumour out, then what?" Blythe asked. "Surely a tumour on the thymus gland would not affect my eyelids? Or hands."

"It might be the cause for the drooping of the eyelid; tumours in the chest area can do that. But you are right, it does not explain the symptoms of you hands," Foreman had to acknowledge.

"So the tumour is one shoe, but what is the other?" Blythe prompted.

"It is possible that the thymoma is a completely separate issue, but it can also be one more symptom. In which case we may be talking about some other disorder entirely, possibly something to do with your autoimmune system." Foreman prevaricated.

"And what might those problems be?"

"Rheumatoid arthritis might explain your hands," Foreman conceded.

"What he is trying not to do," House finally said from his corner, "is to cry wolf."

"Wolf? That doesn't sound very reassuring. If I remember correctly the end of that story was not very good."

"No it wasn't. The wolf, _canis lupus_, ate them all," House groused. "Lupus is an autoimmune disorder where the body basically becomes highly allergic to itself. Fortunately there is a way to test for it, which is not always the case with autoimmune disorders. I'm assuming you are going to do that test?" He turned to Foreman.

"Yes, Cameron is doing it as we speak." Foreman informed them. "And I'm sure it isn't Lupus, it never is."

"My son doesn't seem quite as convinced of it as you would like to sound," Blythe mused.

"Well, Lupus does come with joint pain," Foreman was forced to reveal. "But even so, the rest of your symptoms are so mild, so barely there, that I cannot believe this could be Lupus. Or then we will beat all records of early detection of it ever made. That, of course, would be a good thing for the treatment."

"So there is a treatment for it?" Blythe asked.

"Treatment, yes," it was House who answered. "Cure, no. But early detection is the key, as with most things that can go wrong in a human body. If it is Lupus, and Foreman is right, nobody has ever detected Lupus with so few symptoms, there is a good chance that you can live a pretty normal life."

"Well, I'm rapidly approaching 70, so there isn't that much of it left anyway, so I think I can handle even your wolf." Blythe stated with some bravado. "So when are you going to operate on my thymus?"

"We thought you would like your husband to be here by then, so it's scheduled for the day after tomorrow. If that is ok?" Foreman said.

"Yes, I would like my husband to be here," Blythe confirmed. "I know it is an operation that you do on a regular basis, but it's still surgery, and things can go wrong."

"They better not go wrong," House stated.

"I'm sure they won't, but I still like to be prepared to all eventualities," Blythe reassured him. "You know me."

"I do," House sighed. "And I know Dad, too. He would be most upset if you had had surgery and he had not been there. At least not now that he has some say on the matter."

"So it's decided then," Blythe turned to Foreman. "I'll have my surgery the day after tomorrow and meanwhile you do whatever tests you need and we'll see what comes out of them."

"That is the plan," Foreman said making ready to leave. "If you have any questions from me, just let me know and I will fill you in the best I can. But now I'll go and see how Cameron is doing with that Lupus test. I'll let you know the results as soon as we have them."

"Fine," House nodded to him. "Thank you Foreman."

For a moment Foreman considered fainting over House's unexpected civility, but decided then just to leave the room and let House have some time with his mother.


	6. When you are old and grey

Foreman found Cameron in the lab with Chase. They were both just finishing, Cameron had the Lupus test and Chase just dropped off the blood samples for Georgia.

"Finished?" Foreman asked Cameron.

"Yep, and it's not Lupus," Cameron answered relieved.

"Thank you for small mercies!" Foreman sighed. "Do you want to take the results to House? He's with his mother still."

"Don't you want to do it yourself?" Cameron asked.

"I don't think I can take more of him right now," Foreman confessed.

"What? Did he make snide comments to you about your diagnostic abilities?" Chase asked. "Or was he just unusually heavy with his racist comments and sarcasm?"

"He is not racist," Cameron admonished earning dumbfounded looks from her colloquies. "He hates everybody, regardless of race."

"That may be, but it sure sounds racist to me," Foreman pointed out. "Though it's not that this time. He just creeps me out. I don't know who he is anymore."

"He is worried about his mother," Cameron repeated her earlier comment. "Of course he is more subdued. This cannot be easy for him."

"But he thanked me," Foreman finally revealed. "He never thanks me. Hell, he never thanks anyone! It's just not like him, and I don't know how to deal with this pod person."

"He thanked you?" Chase asked. "You? House? House thanked you? He never does that!"

"He does, too," Cameron insisted. "He has thanked me!"

"You're different," Foreman dismissed. "Even House is not completely immune to your niceness. You're all sugar and spice; even he is bound to thank you once in a while. But this is me! He never thanks me – or Chase – for anything. Ever."

"Not even in our dreams," Chase confirmed. "If he did that, I'm not surprised that you need time to recover. Come on Cameron, I need to take Georgia back to her room, you can accompany us. Mrs. House is just next door."

----------------

House saw them coming and stepped into the corridor to meet them. He nodded to Chase and Cameron and then turned to Georgia.

"You look a little tired," he said. "Are you up to greeting my Mother briefly, or would you rather go to your own room right away?"

"I do feel tired, but not too much," Georgia admitted. "It's just this pneumonia sapping my strength, but I'm quite up to being introduced to your Mother."

"Good, wheel her in Chase." House instructed. He performed the introductions and then retired to his corner. Cameron tried to follow him with the test results, but again he stopped her.

"It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. House," Georgia said. "You son has been so wonderful to me!"

"Call me Blythe," Blythe asked. "He has talked about you, though not nearly enough."

"He is a bit secretive, isn't he," Georgia agreed. "But that's ok with me. I'm of the generation where some reserve was considered a good thing. You didn't hang out all your problems and feelings on national television, as they all seem to want to do now. Dignity was the thing. Mind you, I don't have a lot of dignity left now, but your son has been very good about it. He wrote me a note I can show people if need be. You cannot believe the things you can get away with if you have a doctor's note saying you are batty!"

"I'm sure my son did not write a note saying you are batty!" Blythe disagreed.

"Well, not in those words, he didn't," Georgia said. "But that is the idea. It can be quite fun, especially when I explain to them how I got this way. For some reason the younger generation just cannot understand that we, too, had sex. That it's not their invention! Imagine that!"

"What," House exclaimed from the sidelines. "Are you telling me we **didn't** invent sex? And here I was thinking I was quite inventive."

"Naughty boy," Georgia shook her finger at him. "I'm sure you are quite sufficiently inventive given the chance, but that is not what I'm talking about." She turned to Blythe: "You see I have brain damage that I got from syphilis. I had thought it was over with the treatment I got about 60 years ago, but it came back. Your son treated it, but the damage was done, and now I'm doomed to be happy for the rest of my life. That's almost enough to make me recommend syphilis to anyone! Only I'm not sure you can guarantee where the damage occurs, so I think I better not."

"No, you better not," House agreed. "And I think I better take you to your bed, before you corrupt my mother." House took the handles of the chair. "You look like you could use a nap, and your son is coming back later, so you need to look fresh and rested or he will start snarling at me again."

"Oh, we cannot have that!" Georgia agreed. "It was nice meeting you Blythe. Please feel free to drop by, if you want to. I'm just next door." And then House wheeled her out.

Chase and Cameron had been looking on with fascination, but once House and Georgina were out, Blythe House turned to them.

"I believe you have some test results for me?" She asked. "Is it _wolf_?"

"I'm sorry?" Cameron didn't quite understand the question.

"Lupus. Is it Lupus?" Blythe clarified.

"No, I'm happy to say it is not Lupus," Cameron answered immediately.

"But you still don't know what it is?"

"I'm afraid not," Cameron had to concede. "But we will find out what is wrong with you, I promise."

"And I will hold you to that promise," House said from the door way having returned.

"We had the results from the Lupus test," Chase told him. "It's not Lupus."

"I figured as much," House said. "Had it been Lupus Cameron would have looked a lot grimmer than she did when you arrived. But that still leaves the field wide open."

"We will keep testing," Cameron promised.

"And at least we have ruled out Lupus and lung cancer," Chase tried to sound optimistic.

"Small mercies," House shrugged. "But I suppose I'll take any that come along. But you two must have work to do?"

"Yes, we do, come along Cameron," Chase agreed and took his leave dragging Cameron along.

"And I have clinic duty," House told his mother. "I better go before Cuddy comes in screeching at me and disturbing your peace. I'll see you later."

"Fine. I may go and visit Georgia after she has had her nap," Blythe said. "And before that, I just might have a nap myself."

----------

Blythe did have a nap after which she went to see Georgia. She liked the feisty old lady, and not only because she liked her son. It was apparent that Georgia was well aware of her situation, not batty at all, and was making the most of it. Good for her!

When Blythe got into Georgia's room Georgia's son was with her, but just about to leave for the night. They greeted civilly and the son positioned a chair next to his mother's bed for Blythe.

"Polite young man, your son is," Blythe commented.

"I did my best," Georgia acknowledged. "He is a bit dull, like his father was, but that is not a bad quality in a man. The exciting ones tend to make very bad husbands."

"I think I know what you mean," Blythe agreed smilingly. "My husband was a marine pilot till he retired, and though that may seem like an exciting profession, he himself is not a terribly exciting man. But he suits me just fine."

"Oh yes, military has often given an exciting appearance to many an ordinary man. That's how I fell in love with mine: he was in uniform," Georgia remembered. "He looked so dashing! He was my first love. Nothing like these feelings I have for your son, you understand. This is just mad infatuation, due to my brain damage. But then I was young and fell for the first time. I was lucky that he felt the same way about me, too, and that he was good husband material. So many of my friends didn't fare as well. War time, you know. So many hasty marriages that were repented at leisure! But I married my man, and he was my first love and last love. In fact he was quite a number of the _in between_ loves as well."

"That sounds almost like he wasn't your only love?" Blythe inquired.

"Oh no. Human beings don't function that way. We fall in and out of love, but if we are lucky we fall in love with the same person often enough to have a long and happy marriage. I was lucky that way," Georgia explained. "Though it was not all my doing. There was a man..."

"Of course there was," Blythe agreed.

"In fact, your son reminds me of him," Georgia told Blythe. "Joseph had that same look in his eyes, the look of someone who has seen more than the rest of us. And he, too, had a bum leg. He was my husband's best friend, and I would have left everything for him, including my honour and my principles, had he allowed it. But he wouldn't. So I loved him as much as he allowed and he remained best friends with me and my husband – till the end."

"The end?" Blythe asked softly, sensing sadness in Georgia.

"Yes. Joseph was an Englishman, and after the war he came to Princeton to teach. He was an archaeologist. My husband told me that Joseph had saved his life during the war, but that was all they would say. I knew they had met later again, in hospital due to their wounds, but they would not talk about that either. And Joseph would never explain what he had done during the war, though I got the impression he had been in military intelligence. Spying, you know. Not a desk job. I don't know what happened to him and I don't think my husband knew either, but somehow Joseph ended up getting his leg smashed up. It never healed properly so he was in constant pain. Those days, we only had morphine, of course, not all these wonderful new medications that won't make you an addict as easily. Also there was much less tolerance for pain sufferers then. There was some stupid idea going on about the ennobling aspect of pain, like suffering was somehow a character building exorcise! Humbug! There is nothing ennobling about pain. It's just pain. Anyway, Joseph had a hard time of it, and in the end he took matters into his own hands. When he couldn't get enough morphine from his doctors, he started to use opium. Naturally we worried, but what could we do? We saw his pain, and knew he needed something to get through each day, but we also saw what the drug did to him. Talk about the devil and the deep blue sea! He stayed with us for ten years. Struggling, but he stayed. But when the pain got too much, when he knew that either the pain or the drugs he needed to control the pain were going to rob him of his ability to think, he killed himself. He overdosed on purpose. I cannot say I blame him. I could not see what else there was for him, but I missed him so much, as did my husband. He left us a note saying that we should not blame ourselves or feel responsible. Without us, he would have done it sooner. So he said. I'm not sure I believed it, but it was nice of him to say so. He also left a personal note for me. In it he just wrote: _Remember: When you are old and grey..._ That was the closest he ever came to telling me he loved me. And even then he would not tell me what kind of love he felt."

"When you are old and grey..." Blythe repeated. "That's Yeats, isn't it?"

Before Georgia could answer her, House spoke from the doorway, where he had stood for a while leaning on his cane: "When you are old and grey and full of sleep / And nodding by the fire, take down this book / And slowly read, and dream of the soft look / Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; / How many loved your moments of glad grace / And loved your beauty with love false or true / But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you / And loved the sorrows of your changing face; / And bending down beside the glowing bars / Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled / And paced upon the mountains overhead / And hid his face amid a crowd of stars."

"Yes, William Butler Yeats. I got his collected poems as a gift from Joseph, one Christmas." Georgia said.

"I think you know full well how much he loved you. And what kind of love it was." House said.

"Maybe," Georgia acknowledged. "But it didn't change anything, did it?"

"I don't know. It may have changed everything," House mused. "But I'm no expert on love," he then scoffed. "But I think you two ladies have had quite enough time to gossip. You need your rest! I came to take my mother to her room."

"Perhaps you are right. We can go on gossiping tomorrow!" Blythe agreed. "Good night, Georgia. It has been a pleasure getting to know you."

"Likewise," Georgia said. "We will meet tomorrow!"


	7. The little, bald, circus freak

Next morning Blythe and Georgia were having breakfast together, when House came by (unusually early for him!).

"Should I just tell the nurses to put you two in the same room together?" he asked the ladies.

"Goodness, no," Georgia said. "How could we go on with our flirtation if your mother was there all the time?"

"That is my point," House pointed out. "She is here all the time."

"I'm just making most of the time I have to get to know Georgia," Blythe reassured him. "Your father will be here today, and after that there will be the surgery so I don't know how often I can drop by again."

"There is another reason, too, why you ought to make the best of your chances," House said, then turning to Georgia. "You are responding well to the penicillin, so your son can take you home tomorrow."

"Oh dear, and I was so enjoying my stay," Georgia mourned. "But I suppose you will need this bed for those who are really sick. Wonderful stuff that penicillin, I have to say. First it cleared my syphilis, now my pneumonia... What else can it do?!"

"Quite a number of things, none of which I want you to try!" House admonished. "Next time you feel poorly you come to me, understand? No listening to these young good for nothing quacks again."

"I promise. I'd rather see you anyway." Georgia agreed. As House left the ladies to enjoy their breakfast Georgia noted: "He really is a nice young man, that son of yours."

"He has certainly always got on very well with the ..." Blythe was momentarily at loss for words.

"Old people?" Georgia helped her out. "Isn't that what you wanted to say? I don't mind, I'm 85 so I certainly count as an old person."

"Ok, then, he has always got on well with old people, though I don't really know why."

"Because we are shunned, set aside, pushed into the margin. He finds us interesting because nobody else wants to listen to us. We in the sidelines of life have a different perspective to things and he likes that. At least that is what I think, but I've only known him for couple of years."

"But you could still be right," Blythe agreed. "He has always been drawn to people who others ignore."

-----------

Having left his mother and Georgia in Georgia's room, House went into the diagnostics department. He arrived there soon after Foreman. House checked his mother's file again – in silence – reading the latest test results.

"My mother complained of some double vision and blurriness last night. You should talk to her about that," House informed the younger man.

"She didn't have that before, did she?" Foreman asked.

"When I first asked her she said no, but last night she was no longer quite so sure. Talk to her." With that House left Foreman, going into his own office and closing the door behind him.

Chase and Cameron arrived soon after and Foreman updated them on the situation. They discussed the case in subdued tones, fully aware of House sitting in his office. Cameron suggested that they ask his input, but the guys vetoed that. If House wanted to take part, all he had to do was open the door and either come in or call them into his office. Foreman was not going to initiate anything with this new House they were forced to deal with.

"He said that Mrs. House had double vision last night," Foreman told the other two.

"That could put MG on the table," Chase mused. "Isn't there an ocular version of it that presents itself with drooping eyelids, double vision and blurring?"

"That is what I thought, too," Foreman agreed. "Myasthenia Gravis patients often have thymomas and rheumatic arthritis is also associated with it. We should test for AchR in her blood and if the results are positive, we should do a thymectomy instead of just removing the tumour."

"But MG usually affects women in their 20's!" Cameron exclaimed.

"Usually, but not invariably," Foreman agreed. "Besides, I'm just saying we ought to test for it. Lambert-Eaton and MS are still possibilities as well."

"Though whichever it is, we are detecting it early," Chase said. "And that is good news for the treatment and long term prognosis."

"That at least ought to make House happier," Cameron was happy to note.

"Has anyone seen him take his pills lately?" Foreman suddenly asked.

"Not me," Chase wondered.

"No, I don't think I have," Cameron realised, too. "Do you think he has decided to stop taking them again?"

"No way," Chase said. "If he hasn't taken them, we would know by now. The last time he detoxed is not easy to forget and the symptoms were more than obvious. He must be still taking them; he just isn't doing it as openly. Though I cannot understand why. He has never been ashamed of his habit, quite the contrary."

"Maybe it's because of his Mother," Foreman mused. "I sure wouldn't want my mother think I'm an addict."

"I don't think that is it," Cameron said suddenly. "I think it is more a case of him not wanting his mother to know how much he is taking. He does not want his parents to know how painful his leg still is."

"Could be," Chase agreed. "Though, I would not put any money on that interpretation. He doesn't seem like a man who would much care about his parents opinions."

"He cares about his mother," Cameron pointed out the obvious. "For her, I think he would try to hide his pain and his addiction."

They all looked into House's office trying to figure out the man sitting in there silently listening to his music or doing research or whatever. He was a puzzle and they felt they would never understand what he was all about.

------------

The team was doing the differential on Blythe as House sat in his office trying to keep his mind off the imminent arrival of John House. Not a cheerful prospect that. Especially as he had to try and keep things on an even keel with his father, now that his mother had quite enough on her plate without trying to keep peace between her son and her husband. Wilson's arrival was a pleasant interruption to his thoughts.

"You don't look too cheerful," House said to his friend who was sporting an unusually sombre look on his face.

"Andie is back. She checked in last night," Wilson sighed and sat down opposite to House.

"Andie?" House repeated. "Oh, yes, the little, bald, circus freak. I remember."

"At least you are back to your normal, snarky self," Wilson observed. "She wants to see you."

"Is she hallucinating again?" House asked.

"No. Her cancer is active again, but she is not hallucinating or having any other weird symptoms. She just wants to see you." Wilson stated.

"And that is not a weird symptom?" House asked. "Her wanting to see me?"

"No, it isn't. Just a very odd taste in people," Wilson shot back. "You should be able to relate to that."

"Ok, I can go and see her on my way to the clinic," House agreed. "What is her status?"

"The cancer is back, but I think we can beat it one more time. Maybe for a couple of months."

"She wants that? To go through yet another gruesome round of chemo for just a couple of months?" House asked simply. "She has already lived longer than the year we were hoping to give her with the removal of that tumour and that clot."

"Life is life, even if only a few weeks," Wilson said.

"If you're sure," House doubted. "I cannot imagine what she wants of me, but I'll go see her."

--------------------

House walked into Andie's room a little later that day. Andie was still a beautiful young girl, ten now, almost eleven, but she looked worn out. More so than the last time House had sat by her bedside. Her mother was there, but when Andie said she wanted to visit with Dr. House alone, she decided to go and have a bite to eat in the cafeteria. House drew a chair next to Andie's bed and sat down.

"So here I am, all yours, kid," he said.

"Would you please help me," Andie asked in a small voice.

"If I can," House said. "What is it you want?"

"I want this to be over," Andie said. "You are the only one who has ever asked me, what I want. Then I wanted to go on, but now I want this to be over. I don't want more chemo, I don't want this anymore. I'm tired."

"I can understand that, but I'm not your doctor," House explained. "You need to tell this to Dr. Wilson."

"He is not asking me, he is asking my mother," Andie pointed out. "I love my Mum, and I don't want to hurt her, but I will die, there is no avoiding it. But I cannot just blurt it out to her, that I don't want any of this any more. Would you talk to Dr. Wilson, and ask him to prepare my Mum? So that she will be better able to understand it when I tell her that I won't do this anymore."

"I'm not very good at explaining things to people, but I will do my best," House told Andie. "I definitely think you have the right to decide for yourself what you want, and you have been there for your Mother longer than anyone could have expected. You, if anyone, have earned the right to think of yourself now."

"Thank you," Andie said. "I knew you would understand."

"What is there to understand? I saw your mettle the time I treated you for that clot. I believe you are perfectly capable of making your own decision. And I will do my best to make Dr. Wilson see it too." House stood up and made to leave the room. At the door Andie's voice stopped him.

"You wouldn't want to kiss me, would you?" she asked. House turned and saw a glimmer of the old Andie, the one who had told him to go outside into the sunshine, in her eyes.

"No, no matter what you say," was his answer. "I can send Chase here to see you, though, if you want to."

"I don't think I can get him to kiss me again," Andie said mournfully. House looked at her, smiling, and then he limped back to the bedside. He leaned down and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.

"You'll just have to make do with that, then," he said, and left the room.


	8. The callous jerk

Cameron had picked up John House from the airport. She felt a bit awkward trying to explain to him that his son was too busy to come himself. But he seemed to take it in his stride, like he hadn't expected anything else – not really. They drove to PPTH mostly in silence, though Mr. House did ask a few questions about his wife and her health. Cameron answered as best she could, but since they still didn't have a definite diagnosis, her answers were somewhat vague. Once they arrived at PPTH, Cameron took Mr. House to his wife's room. Blythe House was happy to see her husband, and as she was feeling quite well – no surprise there, as she had had no major symptoms at all – they decided to go see House.

House was not in the clinic anymore, so they decided to try his office. The office blinds were drawn, but they heard voices inside and chose to open the door to tell House his father had arrived. They walked into war zone. House and Wilson were having an all out shouting match.

"Who the hell do you think you are to tell me how I'm supposed to treat my patients?!" Wilson shouted at House.

"I'm not telling you how to treat them. All I'm saying is: listen to her! Not everybody else. She has had enough!" House told him.

"She was perfectly happy with her mother's guidance until you decided to put your oar in," was Wilson's response.

"She was the one who wanted to see me, not the other way around. And the reason she wanted me, was because I'm the only one who will listen to her," House stood toe to toe with Wilson. "She has already done everything in her power to prove to her mother that she loves her. What more does the mother want? Andie has been trough surgeries that grown men would refuse to even contemplate! She has had more chemo than anyone should go through in twice the lifetime she has had. She allowed us to rip her heart out, cut it to pieces and put it back. We froze her and killed her. Sucked out her blood like a murder of vampires and then put her back together again! Isn't that enough?"

"You are not the judge of that. Just because you would not have the courage to go through all that does not mean Andie is willing to die! Or that her mother is willing to give up. She loves her daughter! She will be devastated when Andie dies, she will not know what to do without her child." Wilson tried to appeal.

"And where is the medical reasoning in that? You should be thinking of the best of your patient, not of her mother. She has had enough time with Andie, it's time to let go. So she is lost without a child, you can tell her to get another one. She is young enough and attractive enough. She can go into any singles bar in Princeton and attract a host of guys who will be happy to oblige. Or if she is not willing to take the possible risks with that, I'm sure you can refer her to a suitable fertility clinic." House responded coldly.

"You callous bastard!" Wilson gasped and turned to leave House's office – only to come face to face with Cameron and House's parents. He stopped shocked that Blythe and John had witnessed the argument. Just as he was about to say something he heard House say:

"You are wrong, Jimmy. I'm not a bastard. My parents were quite solidly married by the time I came along; ask them if you don't believe me. I'm more of a jerk. Callous, of course, is quite possible, but at least I don't torture children."

Wilson lost it. He turned and let fly with his fist. It connected with House's jaw and Wilson grunted with pain. House had been leaning against his table so he remained standing but his head snapped back. Wilson stormed out of the office nursing his fist.

House looked up shaking his head and met Cameron's shocked and outraged gaze. "Go see to his hand," he instructed her. She almost said something but then decided to just give him another searing look and then followed Wilson.

John House, however, was not satisfied with just looks. He was outraged at his son's behaviour and was not about to let it slide.

"James was right. That was a callous thing to say. I'm ashamed to be your father, son," he said.

"Yeah, and what else is new in your life?" House snapped back sarcastically. John was about to say more, but House stopped him with: "Save it!" Turning to his mother he did soften his demeanour. "I'm sorry mother; I wish you had not witnessed that. I know how you hate confrontations."

"And I ought to know by now that surprising you is always a risky business. Given how much you thrive on confrontations," Blythe responded resignedly. "How is your jaw?"

"Fine," House said. "This is not the first time I've been hit. Contrary to what the TV lets you to believe the jaw is mightier than the fist. I just hope Wilson didn't break any fingers. He was foolish enough to hit me with his left hand."

"Is that all you have to say?" John asked outraged at the matter of fact way his son was behaving.

"Yep, pretty much. As none of this is really any of your business," House dismissed, popping a Vicodin in his mouth. "I'm in pain, Dad," he flipped at his father's admonishing look. "If you want to talk to Foreman, he is right next door and he has some new test results for you," he said to his mother more civilly.

"Then I better go and hear them," Blythe agreed and turned to her husband. "Come along, I'm sure Greg has work to do, now that he knows you have arrived. We can catch up later, when things have calmed down a bit." She almost pushed her husband next door to talk with Foreman and leaving House to nurse his jaw in the office.

Foreman had heard bits and pieces of the confrontation, but as it was none of his business had not paid that much attention to House being House. Actually, it was almost comforting to have him behave normally – so to speak.

Foreman had not met John House before, though he had been around the last time House's parents visited. They greeted civilly, but before he got around to discussing Blythe's case John asked him:

"How can you work for my son?"

"Well, I can't say it is always easy, Dr. House can be very demanding, but this is the most prestigious fellowship in the country. Having worked with Dr. House means I can pretty much choose my next position anywhere I want," Foreman revealed.

"But the way he behaves! What he said to Dr. Wilson just now," John was still full of outrage.

"Well, he can be a bit difficult at times, but he is the best doctor I have ever worked for. He is a legend in his field. This is an opportunity of a lifetime," Foreman tried to explain.

"John, do stop putting Dr. Foreman on the spot. Greg is his boss, and no matter how outraged you are, I am Greg's mother, and asking Greg's people criticise him to his mother is really not done," Blythe decided to take over. "Greg said you had some new test results, I would like to know what they mean, and I think my husband would like to know what the situation is in general."

"Yes, ma'am," Foreman agreed with relief and started to explain what had been done, what had been found and what needed to be done now.

-----------

House had had a difficult day. He had visited his mother just before leaving home from work, but it was a very brief visit accomplished while John was settling into the room Cuddy had reserved for him. But that was just postponing the inevitable as there was going to be tomorrow. Scarlet got it all wrong: _tomorrow_ was not a thing to look forward to.

House sat at his piano quietly playing blues: _"Ghost of yesterday / Stalking 'round my room / All night long you stay / Walk around profound gloom / When the darkness falls / When I've gone to bed / Weirdly come your calls / Mournfully, scornfully dead ..." _When there was a knock on his door he stopped playing, but took a moment to decide if he was going to open the door. It could be Wilson; it could even be his Dad, or maybe Cameron. But none of the choices he could think of were very comfortable tonight. He did open the door, though. Since tomorrow was going to come anyway.

He found Wilson on his doorstep. But Jimmy was not alone. Andie's mother was with him. House looked at Wilson questioningly but then stepped quietly aside to let them in.

"Greg, I ... we ... " Wilson tried to find words.

"How's your hand," House decided to help him out.

"It hurts," Wilson answered ruefully.

"Good," House said with a small glimmer of a smile.

"Yeah, I suppose I deserve that. Thanks for sending Cameron after me, though," Wilson acknowledged.

"Dr. House," Andie's mother addressed him. "Dr. Wilson tells me that Andie had a talk with you. About her treatments."

"Not exactly," House said. "The conversation was more about her wishes concerning her life."

"What did she say?" she asked.

"I can of course repeat it all to you, but don't you think you should have this talk with Andie, not me?" House asked. "It is her life we are talking about."

"If what Dr. Wilson said was accurate, then how am I going to ask my daughter if she wants to die?"

"You don't." House said. "That would be a pointless question. Like asking her what she wants to do when she grows up. Not-dieing is not an option for Andie. She is going to do it soon no matter what anyone does. The question you need to ask her is: what does she want. Just that, and just listen to what she has to say."

"That simple!" she gave a small almost bitter laugh.

"Yes. Difficult things often are very simple. Sometimes I think that is why they are so difficult." House agreed.

"She is ten! Ten years of age," she sounded desperate.

"Maybe, maybe not," House said. "If maturity comes from how long you have been here, then she is ten. But if maturity comes from how much time you have left, she may be more mature than any of us. She loves you. She would have given up a year ago already, if she didn't love you. But enough is enough. Its time you loved her enough to let her go."

"On your say so?" she mocked.

"No. You don't have to take my word for anything," House declined. "In fact you shouldn't. What you need to do is talk to Andie, and take her word. Whatever it is."

"I don't know if Dr. House is right when he says Andie wants no more treatments," Wilson decided to take part in the conversation. "I wasn't with him when they talked. But I do think he is right when he says this is Andie's decision. That she is the one we need to ask."

"How am I going to live with it?" she asked, not really asking or expecting an answer.

"You'll find a way," House said quietly. "Because the last thing Andie would want is for you to die with her. So you will find a way, for Andie's sake."

She gave House a resigned though not convinced look and turned to leave. Wilson followed her. At the door House stopped Wilson for a moment.

"When you comfort her," House murmured. "Be careful. She is still the mother of your patient and as a doctor you could get into a heap of trouble there!"

"You really are a jerk!" Wilson said and left.

"Yep, through and through," House called quietly after him.


	9. Apologies

_Here is yet another installment. Thank you for the reviews!_

_------------------------------------------------------------_

House felt a little better next morning. True, there was still Daddy Dearest to deal with, but at least he and Wilson were ok. And he had managed to fulfil Andie's wish. Now it was up to Andie to decide what she wanted. House was aware that the talk he had had with Andie might have been just her depression talking, which was why he had told Wilson not to take his word for it, but to listen to Andie herself. But even if it was depression that had made Andie ask for his help, the point she had made was still valid: Wilson needed to listen to her. She was dieing, and she had the right to decide how. It was going to be hard for Wilson, too, not just Andie's mother. Wilson hated loosing patients, especially kids, but then who didn't. But sometimes that just was the way things went.

House got to work early. Not that he was looking forward to being in the same building with his father, but he knew there was no avoiding it and he wanted to have a look at Georgia before she left. He took his bag and jacket into his office first, took a look at his mother's file and then went to find Georgia. She was having breakfast in her room, this time alone. House could hear his father in the next room with his mother.

"And how are you this morning my Lovely?" House greeted Georgia.

"Better and better, especially now that you are here," Georgia smiled back. "But are you sure you should let me go so soon? I might have a relapse or something."

"I'm sure you will be just fine," House said. "Because you would not want to worry me with something like that, now would you? Your son will take good care of you, and if there is any sign of anything going wrong he will call me. Besides, I expect to see you for your check up again, once you have finished the course of antibiotics."

"Well, I'll just have to be happy with that," Georgia sighed. "And anyway, I think I rather like the idea of sleeping in my own bed again. The mind may be young, you know, but the body is the age it is, no matter how much you might want to change it."

"You have that right," House agreed ruefully, feeling a tinge in his own leg.

"Which reminds me," Georgia suddenly brightened, "I met your father last night. Your mother introduced him."

"That must have been fun," House said with a touch of reserve in his voice.

"Well, it was interesting," Georgia went on. "Though he was not at all the sort of person I would have imagined your father to be. Mind you, he did fit the description your mother had given of him, but still, I was a bit surprised."

"How did my mother describe him?" House asked curiously.

"Now, you don't really expect me to tell you that!" Georgia admonished. "It was girl-talk. None of your business."

"What was your impression, then, if he didn't look like a father of mine?"

"Well he was polite, but not in the light-hearted way you are," Georgia mused. "In fact I rather got the impression that he is one of those people who think age ought to bring dignity with it."

"That does sound like John House," House agreed, starting to feel a little apprehensive. Surely his mother had not allowed John to hurt Georgia's feelings. True, she was too eternally happy to be very hurt or for long, but Georgia was his patient and nobody messed with his patients – with the exception of himself, of course, but that was different. And besides, this was Georgia.

"Oh dear, you start to look worried," Georgia noted. "Don't be. As I said, your father was perfectly polite. It was just an impression from his demeanour. I'm not blind, you see."

"I know that, but it seems that my father doesn't," House agreed. "However, it is unlikely you will have to see much of him, as you are getting out of here today. Now, just let me listen to your lungs one more time to make sure all is clearing up nicely, and then I can sign your papers."

House leaned over with his stethoscope. As he brought his face closer, Georgia tested his stubble with her hand. House smiled and admonished her: "Hands, Georgia. Haven't we talked about this doctor patient thing often enough?"

Georgia set her hands primly to her lap but shrugged: "Well, you cannot blame a girl for trying."

"No, I suppose not," House agreed. "And your lungs are clearing up nicely. You're good to go."

"So, here you are," John House said from the doorway. "Got yourself to work, I see. Couldn't come and greet your mother, though."

"I'm with a patient, Dad," House pointed out stiffly. "And aren't you the one who always said that duty comes first, family second?"

"Your mother is just next door!" John groused.

"And she is next on my list of things to do," House said with flippancy.

"Now you listen to me," John started but House stopped him in mid-flow.

"No. Whatever you have to say, you will not say it in front of my patient. It can wait. I'll come to mother's room when I'm done here."

"Insolent puppy," John murmured under his breath, but he did leave the room.

"Are you sure your mother did not have an affair behind his back?" Georgia mused.

"Surely you are not questioning my mother's honour?" House could not help but smile a little, though he was still frowning after his father.

"No, I suppose not. And I guess there is just enough physical resemblance between you and your father." Georgia admitted. "Oh well, you obviously just take after her side of the family, then."

"Actually, my mother tells me I'm a unique combination, all of my own," House told her. "But she is my mother, so there is a bias there."

"Well if she thinks you are perfect then I can see no bias," Georgia defended him stoutly.

"But then, you have brain damage," House had to point out.

"Yes, isn't it fun!"

------------------

House left Georgia with some additional instructions about her care and medication and went to his mother's room. His father was there waiting for him, but as Wilson had joined them too, John House didn't get a chance to give his son the lecture he had wanted to deliver.

"House," Wilson started. "I've come to apologise for hitting you. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have started the whole argument at all. You were right. Andie is my patient; she is the one I should listen to."

"Forget it Wilson," House said a little uncomfortably. He didn't much care for apologies, which Wilson did know. He had to be here because of Blythe and John. "That wasn't the first argument we've had, nor will it be the last."

"As long as we're ok," Wilson checked getting a silent nod from House. "Good. And Blythe, John, I'm sorry you had to see my loss of temper."

"I understand my son can have that effect on people," Blythe smiled. "It's ok as long as you two are fine."

"Greg?" John House turned expectantly to his son.

"What?" House asked, though he did have an idea of what his father was after.

"Aren't you going to apologize to James?" John prompted.

"For what," House played dense. "For having been right? Sorry, but I have got out of the habit of apologizing for not having made a mistake."

"John," Blythe tried to intervene, "Greg is a grown man. How he and James deal with each other, is their own business."

"Blythe, our son was unforgivably rude and callous last night. James has been gracious enough to acknowledge his part in the argument, the least Greg could do is to accept his part of the blame and apologize for it," John was adamant. "I raised him better than this."

"Apparently not," House threw in.

"Don't get flippant with me, son!" John House demanded indignantly.

"Look, I'm 47 years of age, trying to _raise_ me now is way too late, so just leave it," House said tiredly. "Besides, I'm not having this conversation on an empty stomach. I'm sorry Mother, but ... I'm sorry. I'm going to the cafeteria to have a bite to eat and after that I'll come back and we'll talk about your test results and Foreman's findings."

"That would be fine," Blythe agreed.

"Right," House said, ignoring his father. "Want to join me Wilson?"

"Might as well, I didn't have much appetite myself before," Wilson agreed and they walked out of the room together.

"How is Andie?" House asked once they were on their way to the cafeteria.

"Not that good. We talked with her this morning. No more chemo, so it's just pain management from now on."

"How long?"

"Week, maybe even less." Wilson told him unhappily.

"And her mother?" House questioned. "How is she coping this morning."

"As you would expect. I've arranged grief counselling for her, through her support group, but it will be difficult." Wilson sighed.

"For you, too," House observed.

"Yeah. I really hate loosing Andie," Wilson acknowledged. "I have known for a long time that she is terminal, but after the miracle you pulled last year ... I don't know; somehow I just refused to believe that this day would come."

"Sorry I had to be the messenger," House half apologized for the argument.

"No need. I don't think anything but your shock tactics would have got to me," Wilson said. "I'm just sorry I ended up getting your parents involved in it. Both last night and this morning. I didn't realise that my apology would land you in even more hot water!"

"Don't blame yourself," House told him. "Everything lands me in hot water with my father. It's just the nature of things. And I have been unusually impatient with him even for me."

"You are worried about your mother," Wilson tried to defend him. "Naturally you are on edge."

"Maybe, but since our arguments just make Mother unhappy, I ought to at least try to get along with Dad," House sighed.

"Do you need more pills?" Wilson asked.

"Why Jimmy!?" House pretended to be shocked. "This is a different tune from your usual _its all in your head_ tactics. I'm beginning to think you actually believe I'm in pain!"

"You are," Wilson agreed dryly. "Even if it is psychological, it's still pain and I think I ought to keep you stocked on painkillers until your father is safely out of town as I don't want you to commit patricide or your father to commit – whatever it is called when a father kills his son."

"The Romans called it justice," House pointed out. "The father was the head of the family and had the absolute right of life and death over his children. And you can bet my Dad is sorry that has changed."

"Surely things aren't that bad between you two!" Wilson hoped.

"Close enough," House said.


	10. The Surgery

_I had planned to post this sooner, but our Christmas party interfered. Cause, trust me, nobody can party like the librarians! But here this is, at last._

_And thanks for the reviews._

_--------_

After the trip to the cafeteria House walked slowly back to his mother's room. His father was still there, but obviously his mother had had a talk with him as he didn't launch on his lecture the moment House walked in. The atmosphere was still stiff, but not enough to scare Foreman, who came in to check in on his patient before she was prepared for surgery.

"Morning Blythe, Mr. House, House," Foreman greeted them nodding at each. "I just came to see if everything is ok, and if you have any more questions before the surgery."

"Not on the surgery, thank you, Eric," Blythe responded. "You were very thorough with your explanations yesterday."

Foreman looked at House, who shook his head – again causing confusion in his underling. John House, who was obviously very worried about his wife, did want to talk, so Foreman had to set aside his puzzlement.

"What I would like to know is," John asked, "do you know what is wrong with my wife. You danced around the subject rather vaguely yesterday."

"I believe I told you that her test results for MG were positive," Foreman stated. "It is true, we don't know yet if it is affecting only her eyes, or if it is the generalized version. Once your wife has recovered from the surgery we must do more tests to determine that. We are fairly sure it is the generalized MG because of the thymoma and her hands. But at this point the most important thing is to find out for sure if the thymoma is cancerous, though – as I said last night, it has all the appearance of being benign."

"Greg," John turned to his son, "You don't seem to have anything to say about your mother's condition."

"Foreman is her doctor, not me," House replied fairly calmly.

"And why is that?" John asked. "Everybody keeps telling me how you are the best doctor here, but when it comes to your mother, you have nothing to say. Are you such a hot shot that you cannot even take care of your own mother now, but just leave it to your underlings?"

John ignored Blythe's attempts to shush him. House did not reply, he just limped to his mother, gave her a kiss and told her that he would see her after the surgery. Then he started to leave. Foreman could not stay silent.

"Mr. House, it is not a good idea for a son to be his mother's doctor if there is a choice. It's unethical."

"If there is a choice, but if my son is supposed to be the best, then shouldn't my wife have the best?" John grumbled.

"She has the best," House said from the doorway having stopped for a moment. "She is being taken care of by the best team in this country," having said that he left. And once again Foreman considered keeling over with shock, but as he was with a patient he decided against it. This one neither Chase nor Cameron were going to believe!

------------

Blythe House was ready for her surgery. She lay on the operating table under the glaring lights, asleep, unconscious, waiting for the knife to cut her skin. Chase and Foreman had both scrubbed in to observe, but Cameron was waiting with John House – per Greg's request. None of the three knew where House was, and that suited House just fine. He was standing in the shadows at the back of the observation deck looking through the windows into the OR.

House was a silent, unmoving carving from a stone. He had every "no trespassing" sign up and Wilson didn't dare go near him, though he, too, was observing the operation. Cuddy had walked in, taken one look at House and walked out again. She felt like an intruder. So did Wilson for that matter, but he still wanted to be there, just in case. He did, however, keep his distance from House and stood as far away from him as he could, just in front of the glass. However, it was no accident that he had chosen a place that would block the view to House from the OR, should anyone happen to look up.

They were doing a transcervical thymectomy and the first cut the surgeon made was a curved line close to the base of the neck. Wilson did look back when the knife descended for that cut, but could not see any reaction from House, yet something did vibe in the air. Maybe the slightest of sighs?

Thymectomy was not that dangerous an operation. But it was still surgery and things could always go wrong. Previously undiscovered allergies, unexpected reactions, slip ups, post-operative stress, the list was endless. And being a doctor you knew every item on that list. And there she was the source of your life, lifeless, nearly inanimate and in danger from it all.

House watched the violation of his mother's body. Surgery was always a violation, it was an unthinkable invasion of privacy, and any doctor who didn't see it that way, had no business to be in business. On the other hand, any doctor who was not willing to invade the privacy of his patient any which way was necessary to find the cause of an illness, had also no business to practice medicine. The knife that cut into Blythe House also cut into her son. This was the body that had given him life and to see it there, unconscious, at the mercy of others was painful.

House knew that the knife that was cutting into his mother could also cut his father out of his life. The only thing that John and Greg House had in common anymore was Blythe. If she was gone, House knew he would probably never see his father again, either. Not that John would cut his son out of his life, not at all. He would keep on trying to be a father as best he knew how. The problem was that he had never known how to be a father to a son like Greg, and without Blythe there to mediate Greg would avoid his father as best he could. And his best was very good!

House knew that his father had been there when he was growing up. True, career in the military did mean that duty often took his father away, made him miss many important occasions in his son's life, but John had been there whenever he could. Only House could not remember him. He had seen the family photos where he had been happily playing catch or whatever with his father. He had many memories of childhood outings and occasions where he knew his father had to have been with them, but he couldn't remember. Blythe did often say that when Greg was a child he and his father got along just fine, but House could not remember it. He knew it was his mind doing tricks. Once the relationship with his father had gone sour, his mind had edited John out of his memories. How Freudian was that? He had killed his father – if only in his mind.

Blythe had done her best, trying to mediate between her son and husband. But for a woman who hated confrontations it had not been easy. Greg's whole life was one big confrontation. That was how he saw life. John House didn't like confrontations either, but for a different reason than his wife. John was a military man through and through. If an order was given, you obeyed, instructions were followed to the letter and _yours was not to question why_. That was really what had gone wrong in his son. Gregory House never did anything without questions. _Why_ was actually his first word, though his mother could still not understand where he had learned it from! Reportedly his father had thought it funny at the time – he did not find it half as funny later on.

John House lived in a black and white world. Authorities were to be respected, not questioned. People who had lived longer knew better. Children respected their parents, no matter what. What was right was right and what was wrong was wrong it did not change when situations – or countries – changed. And there were no shades of grey at all.

His son, however, lived solely in the shades of grey. Everything was relative. Everything came with conditions. Everybody lied. And yet, amidst all this grey, these different shadows that blurred your vision, that confused you, you still needed to find right and wrong. Because they did exist! People just didn't want to know. People wanted easy, not simple. Because truth often was very simple, once you got all that grey out of the way. But it was also difficult, and often painful. This obviously was the reason, why people hid it under all that grey. Oddly enough, the only person who understood the struggle of life as House saw it was his mother. Blythe House, who had married the most unimaginative man she could find, could well understand her son, who could imagine only too well.

The surgery was going as expected. House was almost fascinated by the dance of the surgeon's hands, how precise, how practiced, how knowing. You could almost forget that it was a living human being under the green sheets. His mother. Suddenly he felt fission of alarm go up his spine! Right at the same time Chase became alert, said something to the team and three seconds after that the monitors started peeping. Blood pressure was down, heartbeat off, something had gone wrong. House ceased to breathe. His hands were strangling his cane. A minute, two minutes and they had the situation under control. Everything was fine again and the surgery proceeded as expected. He had been right about Chase; his wombat did have the instincts of a doctor. He had sensed what was happening even before it had happened, and he had been on top of it right away. Possibly that hadn't made any difference here, but it was an instinct that would save many a life in the future – if Chase finally made up his mind to be a doctor.

The rest of the operation was uneventful and Blythe House was taken into the recovery room, where her husband waited with Cameron for her to wake up.

----------

Chase and Foreman walked out of the OR feeling exhausted. More so than after any other surgery they had attended, or that was what they felt like. And their exhaustion was not helped by the fact that they saw House waiting for them in the corridor. They exchanged a look, trying to silently decide which one of them – if either – was going to tell House about the touch and go moment in the OR. Neither was willing to open their mouths and bring that up, even if all had ended happily.

"Nice catch, Chase," House told him, revealing that he already knew about the incident. Chase assumed that Wilson had already told him, as the oncologist had been observing. "Saw you realise that something was wrong even before the monitors reacted," House said, disproving Chase's guess. Both Chase and Foreman felt their eyes widen as they realised that House had been watching all the time. "That is a good instinct to have as a doctor," House went on tilting Chase's world completely off its axis. House then turned to leave, but threw one more thing at Chase over his shoulder: "Nice work."


	11. Personality changes

"I tell you he is on drugs!" Chase insisted to his two fellow musketeers. "He must be."

"You know he pops Vicodin like candy," Cameron points out. "And with his mother's illness and his father's presence, he must need it even more than before."

"Have you seen him take them now?" Foreman asked.

"Yes, as soon as his father arrived I saw him, and since then it has been pretty much the same as usual." Cameron said.

"He is always taking Vicodin," Chase argued. "It does not explain his present behaviour."

"He is worried!" Cameron defended. "You are talking like he has suddenly grown two heads or something."

"He has!" Chase nearly shouted. "Or at least another head than the one he used to have. I tell you, he has changed. And unless Wilson hitting him caused head trauma, I cannot think of any other reason than drugs for his present behaviour!"

"I have to agree with Chase that House has definitely not been himself these last couple of days," Foreman agreed.

"Look," Cameron sighed, "drugs do cause personality changes, but House is not showing any such signs. Drugs make people irritable, paranoid, more aggressive, things like that. You know it. House has been more mellow of late, if anything."

"Personality change is a personality change," Chase insisted. "It is impossible for House to be worse, so if he changes it has to be to the other extreme. Or can you come up with any other explanation for him suddenly thanking Foreman and telling me that I do nice work?"

"He also told his father – in front of me – that we are the best team of doctors in this country," Foreman supported Chase.

"He has told us we do good work before this!" Cameron tried to defend House.

"Sure he has. But not like this," Foreman reminded her. "Before, there was always also a put down, somewhere in there. If nothing else, he told us that we ought to have thought of it sooner. And remember that time he told you that you had been right about that nun? When it turned out that it was a long term exposure to an allergenic, he said to you: _good work_, but in the next breath he said that you still nearly killed the patient! That you should have followed my example of sticking to my guns, only he did that in a way that also rubbed my nose on the fact that I was wrong about House having been wrong about that injection."

"Precisely! That is how House works," Chase exclaimed. "That is what we know to expect, not this thanking and supportive words and what not he has been giving us. There has to be a reason for the change!"

"It could be just stress over his mother," Cameron still insisted.

"Well, his mother's operation is over, we have the diagnosis and in a few days we can start trying for the best treatment for her, so I'm willing to wait and see how things go," Foreman conceded. "But if he doesn't show signs of returning to his normal self in the next couple of days, I'm searching his home for illegal drugs."

"And I'm coming with you," Chase agreed.

---------

House was sitting in Wilson's office unaware of the anxiety he had caused in his underlings, which was a pity, as it would have afforded him no end of amusement. He was waiting for Wilson to finish a phone call so that they could go and have lunch together.

"Fine, that would be fine, thank you," Wilson finished and hung up the phone.

"Ready then?" House asked getting up.

"Yep, nothing else I need to do first," Wilson agreed and they left his office.

"So what is the situation with Andie?" House asked, knowing that was pretty much the topmost thought in Wilson's mind these days.

"No change. The cancer doesn't seem to be very aggressive at the moment, so I think she may even have one last Christmas still." Wilson sounded mildly optimistic.

"Don't," House told him.

"Don't what?" Wilson asked.

"Don't set yourself up for it. You know perfectly well that even if Andie is still alive come Christmas, she will not be celebrating it," House stated. "You said_ a week_ after you examined her after she refused the chemo. Even if she beats that, she will be in so much pain later on, that you will need to put her in coma for the last few days to alleviate the pain. Don't set yourself, or her mother, up for the hurt that will follow if you start to hope for the impossible again."

"Dammit House!" Wilson despaired, "I ... Ah. You are right; I must not hope for anything like that, just see it day at a time and make sure Andie is comfortable and happy. If happy is a word that can be used here."

"She hates leaving her mother behind," House agreed. "But there is no help for it. I think she has reached acceptance for herself, but not for her mother."

"You may be right," Wilson sighed. "I will try and find a way to help there. If Andie's mother can have some kind of closure for this while Andie is still with us, it will help both Andie and her. I'll have a word with the grief counsellor."

"Whatever you think will help," House said. "But what about you? How are you going to deal with this? You know you are far more attached to Andie than you normally are to your patients, and it's not just because she is a child. You have plenty of children in your care."

"Frankly, I don't know why I like her so much. It could be her bravery, everything she has been through, or just something in her got to my heart strings. But you are right, she is different."

"You really need to work on your objectivity, you know," House pointed out. "It does you no good if you start seeing your patients as your family."

"I know," Wilson said with some resignation. "The problem is that I suspect they really are the only family I have!"

"I have met your family, remember," House dryly remarked. "They do exist and are perfectly ok, so don't try and pull that Oliver Twist act on me."

"I'm not!" Wilson exclaimed. "What I meant is that I spend much more time with my patients than I do with family and friends – with the possible exception of you."

"And who is to blame for that?" House asked. "I find it perfectly possible to treat patients without ever – or hardly ever – even meeting them, let alone constantly hovering over their fevered brows."

"We can't all be you," Wilson scoffed. "But I suppose I could try and get a life, or something resembling it. It will be my New Year's resolution!"

"Good," House supported, though there was some scepticism both in his voice and face. "That still leaves Andie, and how you are going to get through that."

"Yeah," Wilson sighed deeply. "I need to find a way to deal with that, if I'm going to be of any use to her and her mother. I wish it was summer! We could take her out of that stuffy room sometimes now that she still has some strength left to enjoy the sun and the breeze."

"You haven't thought of the balconies?"

"Yes I have," Wilson answered House, "but only mine is sheltered enough for this time of the year, and there is no way we get her bed to fit in there, never mind the monitors and all."

"Does she need monitors? I would have thought she is DNR by now?"

"Yes she is," Wilson admitted. "But we will still give her oxygen if she needs it, and it's also there to monitor her pain."

"I would think she is much better able to monitor her pain than some unfeeling monitor," House groused.

"I suppose, but we still cannot fit her bed on my balcony – or even a gurney," Wilson pointed out. "So there really is nothing for it. At least she has a window in her room."

"Both sides!" House pointed out. "I would really like to know who the fool of an architect was; who thought it would be fun for patients to be sick in a fishbowl."

"Or the administrator who agreed with that thought!" Wilson agreed. "Speaking of patients how is your mother?"

"I looked in on her briefly after she woke up from the anaesthetics," House said. "She looked ok. I'm hoping that once I've had lunch I can go see her and send Dad to have his lunch while I sit with her."

"You really don't get along with your father!" Wilson stated.

"Wow! You must be psychic or something," House answered with heavy sarcasm.

"Hah!" Wilson huffed. "By the way, what did you do to Chase?"

"What do you mean," House was puzzled.

"I saw him soon after the surgery and he looked, I don't know, spooked?" Wilson said. "Foreman said you had spoken with them."

"Can't imagine what it could have been," House wondered, but then a gleam of unholy glee entered his face, "unless it was me saying to him that he did good in there."

"Sure that wouldn't have spooked him!" Wilson exclaimed.

"Might," House mused. "I don't usually thank them, so such unheard of behaviour on my part might have thrown him. I wonder..."

"What?" Wilson asked. "You are making me nervous here."

"I wonder if I was to thank them, just unreservedly thank them for their work every now and then, how badly would it mess with their minds?" House planned.

"House!" Wilson exclaimed exasperated. "Couldn't you just be nice to them? Why do you need to think of ways to mess with their minds? Everybody else is quite happy to acknowledge good work, thank their fellowman once in a while. Why can't you just be nice to your ducklings, just once in a while?"

"But that is just what I'm thinking!" House said. "If I **am** nice to them, just once in a while, they won't know what to think. It would really throw them. It would be a great way to mess with their minds. I really must try it sometime!"

"Has anyone told you lately that you really are a jerk?" Wilson sighed with resignation.

"No, not lately," House thought. "I'm pretty sure somebody called me a callous bastard not that long ago, but I don't think it counts as the same thing. Does it?"

"You are not going to let me forget that I hit you, are you?" Wilson asked.

"No, not in a hurry," House acknowledged. "At least not when we are about to have something to eat and I want you to pay for it."

"Ok, just so that you know, I think you are a selfish jerk, a bum and," Wilson had to take a deep breath before saying it, "and for some insane reason I wouldn't want you to change!"


	12. Procurement and acquisition

After lunch – which Wilson did pay for – House went to see his mother. John House was sitting with his wife, who had just been transferred back to her room, and was sleeping again.

"I thought you might want to have something to eat," House said to his father. "I'll sit here with Mother until you come back."

"Don't you have work to do?" John House asked civilly.

"Not now, I'll have clinic duty later in the afternoon, but I got the morning free," House answered.

"If you were free, then where were you during the surgery?" John was puzzled.

"I was watching it. As a doctor in this hospital I have access to the OR observation balcony," House said.

"But couldn't get me in there, could you," John asked a little miffed.

"Wouldn't have even if I could have," House answered. "I knew what was going on, what they were doing and why. For someone who has no knowledge of surgical procedures... well, let's just say it's the stuff nightmares are made off. You are better off without the memory."

"And you think it was your decision to make?" John was somewhat indignant to have his son determine something like this for him. "You always think you are right, you never listen to anyone else."

"Look, I think we have had quite enough arguments in front of Mother already," House did his best to bite his tongue, "do you want to go and have a something to eat or shall I just get on with my clinic hours?"

"Fine, have it your way," John sighed. "I'll go eat something. I'll be back in half an hour." He left the room in a bit of a huff.

"Thank you," Blythe said quietly when House turned to face her bed.

"I didn't realise you were awake," House said. "Did we wake you?"

"Not really," Blythe denied. "I've been drifting somewhere between sleep and awake since I woke from the anaesthetics."

"Nothing unusual about that," House agreed. "Want some ice?" he asked and as Blythe nodded he helped her to a sliver.

"Don't try to talk unless you really want to say something," House instructed her. "You had a bit of a rough time there and you need your rest."

"Light?" Blythe asked with a questioning look but also with a smile.

"You mean did you go to the light?" House asked, to which she nodded. "Actually yes, you tried," Blythe looked surprised, "so I don't think you ought to joke about it to Dad. He might not find it funny at all. You had some kind of a reaction to the meds, they are not sure which. That is not unusual as there are quite a number of them used during surgery. Though seriously, you didn't _go towards the light_, but your blood pressure dropped and your heart rhythm went haywire for a couple of minutes. They got is sorted out soon enough, so the operation was successful and even the patient survived. They got the tumour checked and it was benign, just as Foreman predicted."

"Good," Blythe breathed.

"That's what I thought," House agreed. "You ought to be able to leave the hospital within a week, if you want, but I don't know how long it will take to determine what is the best treatment for your MG, so if you want to stay longer it's ok, but you can also move into a hotel with Dad till you are ready to travel home, if that is what you prefer. But you did go through all this with Foreman, didn't you?" Blythe nodded. "Good. In the meanwhile, I promise you I will try and be civil to Dad and not fight with him. You don't need the added aggravation from that. I cannot promise that I will succeed, but I will try."

Blythe House smiled at her son and reached her hand to take his. He understood: it was all she expected and wanted that he would try. Sure, he had never been particularly good at keeping that particular promise, but he even trying showed her how much he did love her.

"Musketeers?" Blythe asked then, and again her son understood her shorthand.

"My ducklings? I'm afraid I have been a little hard on them lately," House confessed. At Blythe's questioning look he went on: "Not in the usual sense, they are used to my arrogance and abrupt commands. No, that is not what has them messed up right now. I was nice to them and now they worry there is something wrong with me. I know: a sad testament to my people skills that when I thank someone he must think I'm sick or something. And I didn't even do it on purpose – which I have to admit I could have – but just because I was worried sick over you. So please mother, for my sake and for the sake of the sanity of my minions, don't do something like this again, ok?"

"Sorry," Blythe smiled, "about your Dad, too."

"You are about 48 years late with that one," House joked. "Though I suppose it did seem like a good idea at the time, and I suppose I have to forgive you since you had no way of knowing what kind of a son you were going to get." Blythe punched her son lightly. "Ouch! Fine, I'll forgive you."

By the time John returned to the room Blythe had again fallen asleep and at his father's return House left to do his clinic hours.

----------

House got out of the clinic as soon as he could. There were no new cases for his team, so he went into his office to think. He stood by the door to his balcony, deep in thought twirling his cane. His troops were in the other room, Foreman was reading up on MG – not that he really needed to, but he wasn't taking any chances with House's mother! – Chase was doing his crosswords and Cameron was on the net trying to find an MG specialist somewhere near where the Houses were living to take over the case, once Blythe was ready to go home.

Suddenly House walked into the room with an unsettling smile on his face. He was up to something again! Usually that had his ducklings worried, but today they felt almost a comforting sense of familiarity settle over them as House told them to follow him.

"Come on me hearties!" House instructed. "We have things to do and we need one more member to our team. Sorry Foreman, I know you are usually the expert on call for these things, but this time we need a bit more mature experience than your juvenile record would indicate you having."

"What are you up to this time," Foreman asked, exasperated at the usual reference to his misspent youth, yet oddly relieved to have things back to normal. Maybe he wouldn't need to search House's rooms for those drugs.

"Just some procurement and acquisition, and I have just the man in mind for that job." House was leading the way past Wilson's office, which puzzled his followers as Wilson was usually the extra member they drafted along when House was up to something. In stead they now followed House all the way to his mother's room.

"Hello, Mother," House greeted Blythe, "do you mind if we use your room for a war conference? Because we need Dad for a little job where his military experience could come in handy."

John House stared at his son like he was an alien from another planet, but said nothing. His wife smiled and nodded: "I don't mind at all, as long as you let me know what is going on."

"Since we are going to use your room as the headquarters for this operation, you will definitely be informed," House promised. "Dad, the set up in this hospital is a bit similar to that in the military. You know that if you really need something, you will get it, only it will take forever due to the paperwork. So if you really, really need something right now, the best way to get it is to just get it and worry about the paper work later. Right?"

"Right, that is often the case," John agreed. "What is it that you really need now and how am I part of it?"

"Well ..." House looked around, "we really ought to have brought the white board with us! Ah, no help for it now, we'll just have to make do." House then proceeded to inform his co-conspirators of his plan, what he wanted to do, what was needed to get it done and how he planned to get it done.

"So you see it?" House asked and his troops agreed. "These are the items we need," he found some paper and a pen in the cabinet by his mother's bed and wrote a list of things on it. "These three things are to be found only in our VIP rooms. I cannot go there without causing suspicions as I have no VIP patients right now. However, the guest quarters are near the VIP rooms, so nobody seeing you there, Dad, will find it odd. And if you have Foreman with you - no problem - since he is your wife's doctor. So you two can go get these items. Chase, you get these and I get the rest of them. Take everything into my office and then report back here, to Cameron who will keep the list and follow our process. And Cameron, if you can think of some girly things to add to that list do so. You and Chase can get them once we have all the big items together."

"Are you sure about this," John had to ask. "This doesn't seem like something Dr. Cuddy would object to, so why not just go and clear it with her first?"

"Of course she wouldn't object to any of this," House exclaimed, "especially this time of the month." (Which exclamation made Cameron blush and brought some colour to his father's cheeks as well) "But Cuddy is the administrator here, she cannot just tell us to go get what we want, she needs to do the paperwork! And that would take forever – and frankly, Dad, we really do not have the time."

"If you are sure," John finally agreed. "I suppose you know Dr. Cuddy better than I thought. So let's do it then."

-------

As Foreman and John House were making their way towards the VIP rooms, Foreman decided to clarify something, just in case.

"Mr. House," he started a little apprehensively. "The remark your son made about Dr. Cuddy, I wouldn't draw any conclusions from it. House has a habit of making outrageous comments just to shock people, they don't mean anything."

"So what you are saying is that there is nothing going on between Dr. Cuddy and my son?" John asked.

"Secrets are extremely hard to keep in this hospital and there hasn't been even a whisper about anything going on there," Foreman confirmed. "I thought I ought to just mention it, as you are bound to meet Dr. Cuddy every now and then when you stay here, and I wouldn't want anything House has implied make those meetings uncomfortable."

"Hmm, I appreciate that, thank you," John frowned. "So what you are saying is that though appearances may deceive, Greg doesn't really kiss and tell?"

"My experience would indicate that if he tells he hasn't kissed," Foreman disclosed. "And if he has kissed he won't tell. But that really is just guessing on my part."

---------

About an hour later they were back in Blythe's room. A bunch of items were hiding in House's office and they were now making sure that they had all they wanted in there.

"Yep, the list is complete, even with the girly items you wanted House," Cameron said looking down the list. "The only thing I would like to get is the pink blanket, but that is not possible."

"Do we know that expression?" House asked his troops. "_Not possible_, does not sound familiar to me."

"May not sound familiar to you," Cameron explained, "but that is the case. The only pink electric blanket we have is in the clinic and to get it, you need to get past Nurse Brenda! If the blanket goes missing – in fact if anything goes missing from the clinic she will be on it like a blood hound!"

"Ok, Chase, go flip your hair at her and charm her out of the blanket. We want it." House told Chase.

"No can do," Chase said. "There is no charming Brenda; I have tried it couple of times."

"Fine," House groused. "I'll do it myself then." He limped out of the room.

"This I have to see!" Chase declared and followed him, with Cameron and Foreman at his heels. John, at least stayed with his wife regaling her with the details of the raid they had performed.

-----

House walked to the nurses station where Brenda was just finishing with her sift – the clinic was about to close in ten minutes. He waited till she noticed him in stead of demanding her attention. He leaned over the counter, a little closer to her and said something. Chase, Foreman and Cameron could not hear the conversation. House tilted his head a little, and looked Brenda straight in the eyes – Cameron started to blush! and she wasn't even near him, but he had turned on the charm like only he could when he wanted. Brenda tried to ignore the assault, but she was not immune to it, so she did listen to whatever it was House was saying to her. He reached with his hand, almost but not quite touching Brenda's cheek, just airbrushing a bit of hair out of the way, obviously giving her some compliment. He kept on talking, with an earnest look on his face, eyes pleading and then he just stopped, after clearly having asked a question. He didn't press, he didn't say anything, just looked at Brenda with his blue eyes, while waiting for her to make up her mind. She turned away, left the desk, went somewhere for a moment and returned with the coveted blanket in her arms. She gave it to House saying, just loud enough for the ducklings to hear: "Don't take this as a precedent! I'm not letting you get away with anything on the clinic just because of this."

"I would not even dream of thinking anything of the sort!" House promised and limped triumphantly to his minions.

"Got it!" He gloated. "All we need to do now is put it all together tomorrow."


	13. Romeo, O Romeo

_Thank you for the reviews. I quite like writing this story and its nice to know others like reading it. _

-----------------------------------

Andie was lying in her bed with her mother by her bedside. She was looking out of the window a little sadly. The sun was shining and it looked nice and bright and cheery outside. Inside there was not much cheeriness to go around. Then House walked in. Not exactly a cheery sight, but at least something new. Though maybe not a terribly tactful new – or so Wilson thought as he heard House's first words from the other side of Andie's bed.

"It's a sunny day," House exclaimed. "You should go outside."

"Not much for the long walks in the park," Andie replied with a shrug.

"I know," House agreed. "That is why I brought my lovely assistants with me." He stepped aside to let in Chase and Foreman and the wheelchair they had with them.

"What is going on?" Andie asked.

"Yes, that is a good question," Wilson agreed. "What are you up to now, House?"

"Just doing what you wanted," House replied with an innocent look on his face.

"What I wanted? I'm not sure I should trust that statement when it comes from you," Wilson wondered. "Just tell me what is going on."

"Nope," House said. "It's a surprise. Just follow me, both of you," he instructed both Wilson and Andie's mother, "and you will learn."

Chase and Foreman helped Andie into the chair and House turned to lead the way. Andie's mother and Wilson exchanged a puzzled look but decided to follow the parade. Their route took them by Blythe's room where she, John and Cameron were waiting for them. Blythe, too, was sitting in a wheelchair.

"Oh yes, Andie, these are my parents," House introduced them. "My Dad helped with the surprise so they are coming along for the ride. You ok with that?"

"Sure, though I still don't know what you are talking about," Andie said. "But you are starting to freak me out again, a bit."

"You know he gets that way sometimes," Chase reminded her. "But don't worry, you will like this."

House laughed briefly as he led his procession towards and then inside of his office. Chase pushed Andie's chair to the balcony door and parked it there. The others filed in to the office and House stood next to Andie. He attached a medical bracelet on Andie's writs, to monitor her heartbeat and blood pressure. There was a portable oxygen unit next to the door as well, but Andie didn't need that yet.

"Go on Chase," House said. "Carry her. Just remember that I'm keeping an eye on you, so don't go all Romeo on her, even if you are taking her to a balcony."

Chase sighed, but did as House instructed. He carried Andie outside where a wide recliner, nearly a bed, was waiting for her. There were blankets on the recliner, first one electric blanket on the seat, then normal blanket on top of that, then a normal blanket and a pink electric blanket waiting to cover Andie once she was seated. There was a small heater on the balcony as well, sort of like a small electric fireplace to add warmth to the somewhat weak shine of the winter's sun. There were more blankets piled on another chair, so that Andie's mother could either sit on her own chair, or share her daughter's recliner. There was a small table covered with a cheery cloth, with books, a thermos and an Mp3player waiting on top. There were also small evergreens with Christmas lights and decorations on them on the balcony and Andie looked around her in wonder as Chase set her down on the recliner and covered her with the blankets.

"This is all for me?" Andie breathed.

"Yep," House confirmed. "Just _look how the winter of our discontent has turned glorious summer by this son..._ well, son of House, I suppose. Like it?"

"Really for me?" Andie still had to check. Her mother had also stepped on the balcony and was looking around with tears in her eyes.

"Well, you don't really think I go for pink blankets, do you?" House asked.

"I think this all really is for you," Andie's mother smiled. "Thank you!" She turned to say to House. For a moment it looked like she was going to hug House, but he moved out of the way, back into his office to make room for his parents to check out the layout outside.

"What did he mean with that Romeo thing?" Andie whispered to Chase, as he finished wrapping her up and turning on the blankets.

"Romeo and Juliet is a play of two young lovers and the big scene in it takes place on a balcony," Chase whispered back, smiling ruefully. "Basically what his comment meant was that I hope you liked the kiss you got from me last year, because I'm still paying for it."

"I didn't tell anyone," Andie said.

"I know. Neither did me," Chase explained, still whispering. "But there really is no keeping secrets from Dr. House. He just seems to figure them out, no matter what." Then he spoke aloud: "Do you really like what we did here?"

"I love it," Andie sighed with contentment. "I really, really, love it. Thank you; thank all who had anything to do with this."

"I love it, too," her mother said. "This is really so wonderful of you all! Thank you!"

Wilson stood at the doorway and stared at the miracle that had happened while he had not been looking. House had done all this? And not on Wilson's side of the balcony either, but his own! Wilson turned to look for his friend, expecting to find him standing near, but House had moved to the other room. When Wilson caught up with him he was just pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"House," Wilson didn't know what to say. "Thank you. This..."

"I'd rather you didn't hug me, Jimmy," House said to him. "My father might get some funny ideas from that since the first and last girlfriend he has ever seen me with was Stacy."

"House!" Wilson said with exasperation. "You are not getting away with flip comments. Not this time. What you did for Andie... This whole thing is just amazing!"

"Calm down, Jimmy," House admonished his friend. "It's not such a big deal."

"Not a big deal? You gave up your balcony for her!" Wilson claimed.

"Come on Wilson," House said dismissively. "You are talking about this like I've made a lifelong commitment," he paused and thought for a moment, "no actually this is a lifelong commitment, isn't it? Just not my life."

"Don't even try it," Wilson warned him. "I'm not getting off this subject that easily. You could have set this all up quite as easily on my side of the balcony."

"No I couldn't have," House denied. "There is no way we could have got all these things into the balcony through your cramped office."

"Fine, ok, I give you that," Wilson sighed. "But you didn't have to do any of this at all! There is no getting away from the fact that you gave up your precious balcony for Andie."

"I didn't give it up," House insisted. "She won't be able to sit there for more than a couple of hours a day. And in case you haven't noticed, its winter! Who spends time on a balcony in the middle of the winter?" Then a cunning smile spread over his face. "That is unless one has a really nice chair there and lots and lots of electric blankets to keep one warm."

"No, no, no, no!" Wilson shook his head at House. "You are not going to succeed in turning this into a selfish whim on your part. Don't even try it. You did this for Andie. You did this because the dieing little girl got to you. You like her and you wanted to do something nice for her, and I am not, no matter what you say, I am not going to believe otherwise!"

"Suit yourself," House dismissed the thought. "But I have to get to the clinic now."

"Clinic? You are going to the clinic voluntarily, again?" Wilson started to wonder if his friend was on something stronger than the coffee.

"Yep," House confirmed. "That is the only place where Cuddy won't think to look for me."

"Why would Cuddy come looking for you?" Wilson asked.

"Because I didn't get her approval for any of this," House admitted. "In about ten minutes, I think, she will storm through that door and demand to know why I have raided her hospital, only once she sees Andie, she cannot yell at me. And she will end up crying all over somebody and I'd much rather it was you than me, so I'm hiding in the clinic!"

"What makes you think she will be here in ten minutes? Why not sooner or later?" Wilson asked.

"Because right now I'm ten minutes late from my clinic duty and this is the tipping point for Nurse Brenda. Probably even as we speak, she is already notifying Cuddy of my tardiness. By now Cuddy has already received several reports of things missing and with her suspicious mind she has already come to the conclusion that I have had something to do with it all. In fact, she has probably been waiting for me to show up at the clinic to have it out with me. Only I have not shown up, and with Brenda's complaint she will have the perfect excuse to storm here to look for me and have it out with me. But she cannot do it when she finds Andie on my balcony! It's perfect!" House explained gleefully.

"You are a sad, sad, sad human being, House," Wilson told him. "But I still believe you did all this just for Andie, and nothing you say will change that."

-----------

Cuddy was indeed waiting for House in the clinic, but Nurse Brenda was not complaining about his absence.

"Have you seen House, yet," Cuddy asked Brenda.

"No, he seems to be running late," Brenda said unconcerned.

"You seem to be rather calm about it," Cuddy wondered. "Is the clinic so quiet today then?"

"We are quite as busy as normal," Brenda confirmed. "But I expect he will show up soon."

"Really," Cuddy was not sure what to make of this. "Brenda, are we missing things from the clinic?" She asked next.

"Apart from Dr. House, you mean?" Brenda wanted to clarify.

"Yes. Are we missing something we aren't usually missing is what I mean," Cuddy clarified.

"No, can't say we do. I'm sure I know where everything is right now. Why?" Brenda said.

"I have just received a number of reports of things missing, some of them quite surprising. I was just wondering if the clinic had been hit, too." Cuddy mused.

"I don't think we have," Brenda said.

"If you are sure, then I suppose not," Cuddy had to let go. "I think I'll go and try to find House. He may know something about the mysterious raid that seems to have taken place and he needs to get to work anyway." Cuddy walked briskly to the elevators. As soon as she had stepped in, House appeared from around the corner and sauntered to the clinic.

"Dr. Cuddy is looking for you," Brenda told him as she handed him the first file.

"Well here I am, exactly where I'm supposed to be," House remarked. "It shouldn't take her long to find me."

"She seemed to be somewhat concerned about things that have gone missing last night," Brenda revealed. "It appears that she thinks you might have had something to do with that."

"Who? Me?" House overplayed his innocence. "Surely not!" He turned to go to the exam room the file indicated, but turned back again for a second. "Andie was very happy with her blanket. If you have time to go and see her on your break she would like to thank you herself. She is on my balcony for the next couple of hours." He flashed his blue eyes at Brenda and was gone leaving her breathless just for a second.


	14. Friendly visits

House had been right. Cuddy did cry. Not all over Wilson, that part House got wrong, but she got most definitely teary eyed when she saw what House had done for Andie. She had to retreat into Wilson's office to compose herself.

"Thanks James," Cuddy said taking the tissues Wilson offered her. "I'm sorry about this, but I was so all fired up to yell at House for ... well whatever it was he had been up to again, only to find out he has done something like this!" Cuddy nodded outside towards the party that was on the balcony.

Cameron had got hot chocolate for everyone – except Blythe and John who had already returned to Blythe's room; the surgery had been just yesterday, after all. They had all found blankets to wrap around themselves to keep warm and were telling Andie about the setting up of her surprise – well the censored version of it, anyway. Even Andie's mother looked happy for the moment.

"I know the feeling," Wilson agreed. "I couldn't believe my eyes when we saw it. Can you believe he even got his Father to help with it all?"

"But he hardly speaks to his father!" Cuddy exclaimed.

"I know," Wilson said. "Yet they were in on this together. Granted, John House worked mostly with Foreman, but still, they were in on this together."

"I really cannot make my brain accept this," Cuddy kept shaking her head. "I know I have on occasion seen a different, almost caring side to Greg – even after Stacy and the leg – but I would still never have expected him to do something like this!"

"He did try to make me believe his only motive was to find an acceptable way to have a nice chair and electric blankets for his own use," Wilson revealed.

"Oh, that would be just like him, I accept that," Cuddy mocked. "However, I find it very hard to believe he would have done it all in pink for himself! Which reminds me, I didn't know we had two electric blankets in pink? I could have sworn the only pink one we have is in the clinic!"

"You would be right," Wilson pointed out. "The blanket is from the clinic."

"But I asked Brenda if anything was missing from the clinic and she said no!" Cuddy claimed.

"Well, perhaps she doesn't consider it to be missing as she knows exactly where it is," Wilson said. "According to Foreman House charmed Nurse Brenda into giving it to him."

"Charmed Nurse Brenda?" Cuddy repeated. "Which universe do you think you are living in, because in this universe: not gonna happen!"

"Cameron and Chase confirmed the story," Wilson insisted.

"That son of a..." Cuddy tried to get angry, but then just sighed. "I was sure Brenda was incorruptible, I was sure she would never, ever, ever fall for any of House's tricks, but I should have known better. House has more tricks up his sleeve than a cartload of monkeys! If he doesn't scare them into doing what he wants, or to get out of the way so he can do it himself then he charms them in to doing what he wants. Oh, my kingdom for a nurse who can say no to HOUSE!"

"Come on Lisa, it's not that bad," Wilson said. "So House told Brenda that a dieing girl needed the blanket, is it a surprise she gave in. She is a nurse, after all. Her mission in life is to care for people."

"Her mission in life was supposed to be to thwart House," Cuddy grumbled, but very half-heartedly.

"No, that is your mission in life," Wilson pointed out. "Now if you are yourself again, shall we join the party? That hot chocolate looks quite tempting."

------------

House had been in the clinic for nearly an hour before Cuddy finally felt composed enough to go and confront him. As expected he found House without a patient.

"I got all the paperwork done on the items that went _missing_ last night," Cuddy opened the conversation. "It's all yours till the end of the month. After that, if you don't return it all yourself the maintenance will remove it, and I will bill you for their work."

"That's harsh!" House whined. "I want to bring some joy to the last days of a dieing little girl and you make me pay for it?"

"Yes," Cuddy confirmed. "Had you asked for permission first, I might have let you get away with it, but you didn't."

"And how many days would it have taken you to give me that permission?" House asked. "You would have wanted to run it by the board first and you would have negotiated with the maintenance about the extra work and you would have needed to fill in at least a dozen applications and what not, and by the time you got it all sorted out, Andie would have been dead! Of course, I would then have had my balcony and all the new goodies on it to myself, so maybe I was wrong in not asking you first."

"Nice try, House," Cuddy said. "But I think the secret is out now. You do care."

"You have been talking to Wilson!" House accused her.

"Indeed I have," Cuddy confessed. "And I totally agree with him!"

"Fine, whatever you say," House rolled his eyes. "Just don't say I didn't warn you when you get disappointed again."

"All I'm saying is that you can be a nice man when you want to," Cuddy claimed. "Where is the harm in that?"

"No harm, as such," House agreed. "Just one problem: I don't want to."

"Whatever you say," Cuddy smiled and sauntered out of the room.

----------------

Later that day Cuddy had to deal with no less than five patients who claimed that House had insulted them – and they all were right! Even if Cuddy had to agree with House that they all had deserved to be insulted, drat the man.

--------------

That evening House was sitting at the piano again just testing the keys and wondering if he felt like ordering Chinese, when there was a knock on his door. He was pretty sure it was going to be Wilson; he just hoped the man knew better than to try and thank him again. House opened the door and it was indeed James on the other side of the door, with food.

"I know you don't want any more thanks," Wilson said straight away. "But I also know you never, ever turn down food, so I brought some with me."

"Well, Jimmy, I have to tell you, you do know the way to a man's heart," House stated and took one of the containers leading the way to the kitchen. They took out what they needed to eat and then moved to the couch in the living room. House turned the TV on and they ate in companionable silence watching sports.

"So how was Andie at the end of the day," House finally asked.

"Tired, but in a good way. And happy, well, all things considered." Wilson answered.

"How is her mother holding up?"

"She could use a lot more rest and food than she is currently allowing herself, but there is very little anyone can do about that," Wilson revealed with a worried frown.

"She probably feels that she'll have time to rest and eat later," House agreed. "If she ever feels like doing either ever again, that is."

"Loosing a child is probably the hardest thing of all," Wilson said.

"Especially when you are alone," House added. "Do you know anything about Andie's father?"

"He couldn't handle Andie's illness, so he left them soon after the diagnosis was confirmed," Wilson said with some anger. "I believe he remarried, but they don't really talk about him as he has shown no interest in them for a long time."

"Sounds like a really charming individual," House mused.

"Yeah. And his desertion means that Andie and her mother need to deal with all this alone."

"And once Andie is gone..."

"Yeah."

"How is Andie's doctor handling all this, then?" House asked next.

"Not as well as he wishes he could," Wilson sighed. "Though support from friends is appreciated."

"He has many such friends then?" House asked, "Because if memory serves me his best friend was not the supportive type at all."

"Maybe not the type, but he can shift himself when necessary."

"Hmm, ever the gullible optimist I see," House thought for a moment. "I really don't see why you haven't tried to hit on Cameron as you two have so much in common."

"I think we have had this conversation before," Wilson pointed out. "And nothing has changed since the last time: she is not available. She wants you."

"Not anymore! We only dated once and that was no big deal," House tried to deny.

"Maybe not for you, but she is still hung on you," Wilson insisted. "Mind you I don't get how and why, but that is the way it is."

"If – and I would stress that if – she still has feelings for me," House nearly choked on his words, "they are not real. She has this totally unrealistic idea of me which I just cannot seem to shake! I'm not nice deep down. I'm not a wounded beast she can heal and tame. I'm not tameable! She ought to know that by now."

"Maybe she likes wild beasts," Wilson suggested.

"Maybe," House acknowledged. "But if you get too close to a wild beast you are bound to get hurt!"

"You would not hurt her," Wilson tried to defend his friend, even against the said friend himself.

"I hurt her constantly," House said ruefully. "Think what it would be like for her if there was more between us than her imagination?"

"Don't you think she is old enough to make her own decision about that?" Wilson asked.

"Maybe old enough, but lacking in experience. She is basically a fluffy toy with _made by grandmother_ stamped all over her. I grant that she is tougher, or maybe more resilient than I gave her credit for at first, but that does not mean she can tangle with my beasts. I leave even you bleeding on occasion and ours is just a friendship."

"You just scratch me sometimes," Wilson said.

"What to a friend is a scratch is a mortal wound to a lover. Just ask Stacy." House claimed.

"Maybe, I'm not too good with lovers either, or wives."

"Yeah, we really are a sorry pair!"


	15. The balcony scene

House was in his office reading a medical journal. Andie and her mother were on the balcony enjoying another sunny winter's day. It seemed that the gods that control weather had decided to co-operate with House on his balcony-project, as the forecast was for more sunny days to come, too. House looked up from his journal as he heard the balcony door open. Andie's mother came inside.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she said. "But Andie said she wanted to be alone for a moment."

"And there is no other way out unless you jump the dividing wall and use Dr. Wilson's office," House acknowledged. "Believe or not, I did take into consideration the fact that when Andie is on the balcony I will have people coming and going through my office. No need to apologise." He set aside the journal. "Take a seat, you look like you could drop where you are," House nodded towards his recliner.

"Thank you," she sat down gingerly. "I feel exhausted, but Andie needs me."

"If you mean to go on like this, you need something stronger than coffee to help you," House stood up, got something from his drawer, poured some water into a cup and brought them to Andie's mother. "Here, take this," he gave her a little white pill and the cup. She looked at him a bit hesitantly but at his nod she took the pill and swallowed it. Once House was sure the pill had gone down he took the blanket that was thrown over the back of the chair. "Lean back and put your feet up, the pill will take effect soon."

"If it was supposed to perk me right up," she said, doing as instructed and yawning while doing it, "then I'm afraid I'm having an opposite reaction than what was intended."

"No, you are having exactly the reaction intended," House said spreading the blanket over her, "since that pill was a mild sedative. It should put you to sleep for couple of hours. The something stronger than coffee you need is sleep! Don't worry about Andie, Dr. Wilson is in his office, Dr. Cameron will be back soon, and I'm here. We have her covered for now. She will need you later on, and much more than she needs you right now, so we really cannot let you collapse on her!" Andie's mother gave him an indignant look but could not fight the effects of the drug and her own exhaustion any longer so she fell asleep.

House closed the shades to his office on the corridor side, but left the ones to the conference room open so that Cameron could see who was in the office once she got back from the clinic. Then he went out on the balcony. Andie looked forlorn and lonely now that she didn't have to try and be brave for her mother. House limped over to her.

"Move over kiddo," he said jovially. "Make some room for the crippled old man." He helped Andie to move in her blanket-cocoon so that he could make a similar cocoon for himself on the recliner. He squirmed a little and then drew Andie to lean against him while he held her in place with one arm. "Comfy?"

"Fine," Andie said. "But I thought I told my mother I wanted to be alone." It was not an accusation just a statement.

"You did. And she believed you," House confirmed. "However, I'm not your mother and if you want to con me, you have to do better than that."

"Why would I want to con my Mother?" Andie tried to be indignant.

"See, that is exactly the look your mother gave me just now when she realised I had slipped her a Mickey!" House marvelled.

"What is that?" Andie sounded a little worried.

"I conned her into taking a mild sedative. She should get couple of hours of uninterrupted sleep out of it," House explained. "Isn't that why you told her you wanted to be alone? That she would get some rest?"

"Yeah," Andie admitted in a small voice.

"Look, I know you worry about your mother and you try to take care of her even now, but don't you think you could recruit other people to that job now? You barely have the energy to think of yourself, you cannot, in all honesty, take care of her as well. I know, no matter how many people you ask to look after her, you will still worry. You love her. But you won't love her any less if you ask others to look after her."

"I suppose," Andie admitted. "It's just ... it has been just us for so long!"

"I understand," House sighed. "Its difficult for you both, but you have been brave for so long, you deserve to let go of that, too. And really, I don't think you need to worry too much about your mother. Your bravery has to have come from somewhere, and it definitely did not come from your father."

"I hate him," Andie whispered. She waited a moment for a reaction from House, but when he said nothing she went on: "Usually people try to tell me that I don't mean it when I say that."

"I hate people telling me what I feel," House said. "I see no reason to think you don't know what words to use to describe your feelings towards your father. Sure, I believe that hate is not all there is to it. He's your father. So the feelings must be many and very mixed, but if you choose the word _hate_ to describe them, I'm sure you have excellent reason for it."

"I don't miss him, not for myself," Andie said. "But Mummy should have someone there to help her, someone to support her; someone to just be there for her."

"Yes, that would be nice," House agreed. "But he couldn't do it, and that's it. We can wish that it hadn't been so, that he had been stronger or more mature or whatever, but he wasn't. I don't say you are wrong in hating him, I just think you really shouldn't waste energy on him."

"He married someone else, you know," Andie whispered. "Last I heard they had a child. A healthy child."

"Well, for the kid's sake let's hope things stay that way," House huffed.

"You think that could change?" Andie asked.

"You were healthy first, too," House pointed out. "In life things change, sometimes the change is bad, and if he didn't stay the first time, it's unlikely that he will stay the second time, either."

"You would have stayed," Andie mused.

"I cannot be sure of that," House disagreed. "I'm not good with long term commitments at all. I hope that had you been my kid I would have stayed around to look after you, even if things hadn't worked out with your mother, but I don't know. I really don't know."

"You would have." Andie just stated with certainty.

"Blessed are the innocent," House sighed but decided against arguing.

"When he was still my daddy," Andie said after a moment, "he used to cuddle with me, a bit like this, and tell me stories."

"Sorry kiddo," House said, "I'm not Chase, you cannot talk me into things the way you did him. Besides, I don't know any stories."

"None at all?" Andie wondered.

"None with a PG rating, I'm afraid not," House had to confirm.

"Didn't your mother tell you stories when you were little," Andie was intrigued.

"Yes, she did," House said. "Quite a lot in fact, but it was a very long time ago and I only remember bits and pieces. Though," suddenly he frowned in concentration, "there is one stupid Christmas poem I think I may remember. It wasn't one of my Mother's stories; I had to learn it by heart one year at school. I think I was thirteen or something. For some reason the teacher decided that I had to learn it and recite it in public. I think I made her regret her decision, but I'm fairly sure I learned the poem. Though I still cannot think why I was the one who had to do it."

"What poem was it," Andie was fascinated.

"It starts something like: _'Twas the Night before Christmas..._"

"Oh, I like that one," Andie was delighted.

"You would!" House sighed with resignation. "Fine, I'll try:_ 'Twas the night before Christmas/ when all through the house -_ oh that was why I had to learn it, it has my name on it! - _Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. / The stockings were hung by the chimney with care/ In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there. / The children were nestled all snug in their beds/ While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. / And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap/ Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap. ..._

----------------------------------

Nurse Brenda had not had time to go and see Andie the day before, so she decided to go and greet her on her break now. She admitted to herself that she was intrigued at what House had done for the girl. The rumour mill was, naturally, working overtime with this particular item, but nearly all who gossiped about it were sure that Dr. Wilson had been behind the whole thing and that House had agreed only after Dr. Cuddy had forced him to it. Brenda had been tempted to correct that misconception a couple of times, but had decided against it. She didn't think anyone would believe her, and she wasn't even sure Dr. House cared one way or the other what the hospital gossips said about him. She wasn't sure he cared about anything ANYBODY was saying about him – good, bad or indifferent. However, that did not satisfy her curiosity about Andie's balcony, so here she was, on her way to Dr. House's office.

As she walked in the office, she saw Andie's mother asleep on the chair, but no sign of House. She assumed that Dr. Cameron had persuaded Andie's mother to take a nap and was herself with Andie on the balcony, so she tiptoed past the chair and went to the door on the other side of the office. As she opened the door, she heard Dr. House's voice and was mesmerised by if for a moment: she hadn't realised how beautiful his voice could be. It took her a moment to realise that it really was House on the balcony with Andie and then she heard the words:

..._He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work/ And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. / And laying his finger aside of his nose/ And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose/ He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle/ And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. / But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight/ "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"_

Brenda considered a retreat for a moment, but Andie saw her before she could back into the office.

"Nurse Brenda!" Andie exclaimed, "did you hear the story Dr. House told me?"

"Just the end of it," Brenda said. "But I know the story."

"Well, don't just stand there, catching your death of cold, or Cuddy will find some way to blame me for it," House admonished her, "grab a blanket and sit down. There's some hot chocolate in the thermos as well, I think, at least Cameron tries to keep it filled."

"Thank you, I think I will do just that," Brenda smiled at the less than gracious invitation. She was sure House didn't appreciate having been caught reciting Christmas poems to a ten year old.

"Dr. Cameron told me you found the pink blanket for me," Andie said once Brenda had sat down. "Thank you, I love it. Pink is my favourite colour."

"So I was told! And I was happy to help." Brenda responded.

"Do you want some chocolate," House asked Andie feeling her give a very slight shiver, possibly not from the cold in the air, but from a cold inside.

"I need to get my arms free," Andie told him starting to squirm a little.

"Not unless you really want to," House said. "I can hold the cup since we have to share anyway."

"Ok, then. Yes please," Andie agreed. Brenda poured them a cup while serving herself as well and they sat in companionable atmosphere.

"I saw Andie's mother was sleeping in the office," Brenda said to House. "How did you persuade her to take a nap?"

"He slipped her a Mickey," Andie told with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You were not supposed to repeat that, brat," House told her with mock anger.

"A Mickey?" Brenda repeated.

"I gave her a mild sedative," House confessed, "only I think I forgot to tell her I was doing that."

"She will not be very happy with you when she wakes up," Brenda predicted.

"Possible," House agreed, "but she needed it, and Andie wanted it, so I'll live with it."

They went talking about nothing much and sipping their chocolate for about another ten minutes. Then House felt Andie relax against him and looking down at her he saw she had fallen asleep.

"Out, like a light," he said.

"Like her mother," Brenda agreed.

"Hmmm. I think there is a gurney in the corridor," House then said. "Could you wheel it into my office and place it next to Andie's mother? Then if Chase is in the other room tell him to get his butt in here and do his Romeo detail."

"Romeo detail?" Brenda wondered.

"Chase has been assigned the duty of carrying Andie to and from the balcony," House explained.

"Ok. I'll get to it, then," Brenda agreed and set down her cup, shed her blanket and went to do as asked.

As she reached the balcony door she looked back at the man she found rather incomprehensible. The most irascible man she had ever met was cradling a little, terminally ill girl tenderly in his arms and doing his best to make her last moments on this earth bearable. Go figure. As she turned to go, she noticed that House was rubbing his bad leg. It seemed to be acting up again.


	16. Blackmail

_Thanks for the reviews! I think I better confess that there are a few red herrings in this story so far. I hope they are not taking you all the way up the garden path, when I'm aiming for just a slight detour._

_Some of you have noted that House is sort of out of character – (no, I did not think it was a complaint as such, just an observation) – I don't think he is so much out of character as in character we have rarely seen. But we have seen him: in Socratic method, Kids, Autopsy, in Daddy's boy we glimpsed him briefly with his mother, also sometimes in the clinic with kids (the boy with the washable red rash and the girl who was "marching the penguin") and Cuddy saw him when he advised her to find a donor she can trust AND like. _

_I will try to make clear the whys and wherefores of what is going on but do ask questions, because one does get blind to ones own story! Also do remember that this is only day 5 of this epic, even though there are 15 chapters – well now 16 – up, so House has not been nice for very long, yet. And he was quite bad in the clinic just yesterday! Main reason you didn't actually see it, was because I really don't have much medical knowledge, and I didn't have time to do enough research to write clinic stories. _

_Thanks for you comments and I hope you will enjoy the rest of the story too._ :)

---------------

Once Andie had been stashed away in House's office with her mother, House decided it was time to go visit his own mother again. He did visit her at least twice a day anyway, mostly when he knew his father was doing something else, but this time he went because he knew Foreman was going to be there with the latest test results.

When he got to Blythe's room he saw that Foreman had just arrived, so he kissed his mother and then limped to the window and parked himself a little to the side leaving the floor to Foreman. Foreman gave him a considering look, but then he turned to Blythe and John who was sitting near his wife holding her hand.

"The repetition tests we did to your hands last night and this morning, are pretty conclusive. It is MG in your hands as well and not just arthritis, so it is official: you have generalized Myasthenia Gravis not just the ocular version. We found it in its early stages, so there is no reason to believe you cannot have a perfectly normal life. At this point I would start you on prednisone and we will need to monitor your calcium and potassium levels and we also need to keep an eye on your thyroid because MG often causes problems there, too. Once you are well enough to travel back home, we will refer you to a MG specialist in your area. Also you need to join a support group that will help you live with this condition. There are a number of drugs you shouldn't use, some foods may cause problems and you have to learn to pace yourself. I have arranged a meeting with one of our therapists for you, but this is an illness that you need to know well to deal with it and a few sessions with a therapist are not likely to be enough, so you really need to go to the group meetings to learn all there is to learn."

"There is no cure to this then?" John asked worried.

"No. For most people this is a permanent condition. There have been some spontaneous recoveries, but they either occur or not. But as I said, we found this early and there is no reason to presume that, with the right management, your wife cannot lead a normal life." Foreman reassured him.

"What effect the operation had on my health; in regard of this illness?" Blythe asked.

"Most MG patients improve after a thymectomy, but it may take as long as a year for the benefits to manifest themselves. And as your symptoms were slight to start with – apart from the thymoma – it is possible we really will not be able to tell what results are from the operation and what from just the normal treatment." Foreman explained.

"But what you are telling us is that basically I'm fine?" Blythe checked.

Foreman glanced at House, but got no help from there, so he just said: "I cannot say fine, not exactly. You still have an autoimmune disease that needs to be treated and monitored and can cause more, even serious, problems further down the line. But I am saying that right now you have nothing to worry about and I'm very optimistic about your future as well."

"Well, as I said once before, I'm near 70, so that is good enough for me," Blythe stated. "And by the looks of my son, that is good enough for him, too."

"Yes, Mother," House took part in the conversation for the first time. "I have seen your file and I cannot see anything that Dr. Foreman hasn't taken into consideration. The musketeers did well on your case and the planned treatment looks good too."

Foreman's first thought after that was: I'm so going to search his home!

"So when can we go home?" John asked.

"I cannot say for sure, but if we can find a doctor near you who can take over Blythe's treatment from us, I see no reason why you couldn't go home for Christmas," Foreman mused. "On the other hand, if you want to be sure we have got your medication right and the rest of the regiment going you could stay longer, up to six weeks, though you wouldn't need to stay in the hospital for most of it."

"I see no reason why we should go home for Christmas," Blythe said. "I would not be up to any entertaining or even visiting anyway. On the other hand, six weeks would be way too much for my son's nerves. I think we'll go home after Christmas but before New Year."

"A son should be happy to have his parents near him, while they still live" John House grumbled a little.

"Dear," Blythe smiled at her husband, "Greg is a grown man. Why on earth would he want his parents watching his every step?"

"Mother, you are not exactly the nosy type, so I don't think you would be watching my every step even if you were to stay longer." House felt obliged to point out. And it was true, his mother did leave him quite happily alone – it was his father who wanted the details of House's life.

"I'm not, your father is," Blythe acknowledged earning a slightly indignant look from her husband.

"It is not nosiness to want to know what is happening in your son's life!" John huffed a little.

"It is when your son is as private a person as Greg is," Blythe stated calmly. "Don't worry Greg; we will be out of your hair right after Christmas."

"What ever you decide is fine by me," House accepted. "But I have clinic duty in half an hour so I better go get some lunch before that."

House limped out of the room leaving Foreman to answer the rest of his parent's questions.

-----------

Brenda was in the nurses' locker room banging her head lightly on the door of her locker.

"Get a grip girl! Nothing has changed! It's just Christmas spirit or something, even the Scrooge has to feel it!" she was muttering to herself.

"Brenda?" she heard a voice behind her and looked up.

"Oh, hi Imelda," Brenda said. "Don't mind me I'm just trying to hit some sense into my head."

"Really? It looks to me like you are not succeeding very well. I called your name three times before you responded." Imelda mused. "You know, I only know one man in this hospital who can have that effect on a woman."

"Who said it was a man?" Brenda questioned with exasperation.

"Fine, a cripple, then if you prefer," Imelda shrugged. That got Brenda's attention.

"How...?"

"Been there, done that," Imelda revealed. "You looked into his eyes, didn't you?"

"I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean," Brenda tried to prevaricate.

"He talked me into falsifying lab results," Imelda confessed having first made sure they were alone.

"You!" Brenda felt her jaw drop. "Nobody could talk you into anything, let alone into anything even remotely nefarious. No way did he get you to falsify lab results!"

"It was that time when Foreman was in charge of the diagnostics department. House wanted to treat a Munchausen's patient because he was sure there was more to her symptoms than just the ones she had manufactured herself. But he needed lab results to convince Foreman. He couldn't draw blood from the patient, so he asked me to gather all the extra blood I had left over from other tests from other patients and run the tests with that. No way was I going to do that – until I made the mistake of looking into his eyes." Imelda shrugged. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Yes," Brenda acknowledged. "There just is something in them, something deep down that you don't even recognise but they mesmerise you."

"And for a moment you would do anything for him," Imelda finished the thought. "It does pass, you know. Don't worry. You will be normal soon enough. Though it may reoccur, like when he gives his balcony to a terminal kid, or something, and then, just for a moment, you remember. But it does pass."

"You know then that it was House, not Wilson, who was behind the balcony thing?" Brenda asked.

"It had to be House," Imelda pointed out. "No way could Dr. Cuddy make him decorate his balcony all in pink, she wouldn't even dare to ask! If it happened it happened because House wanted it. And I expect he had a lot of fun raiding the hospital that night."

"I bet. "Brenda agreed. "Did you tell anyone?"

"No," Imelda said. "It's none of anybody's business. I don't care to feed the rumour mill. Even if you tell the truth, by the time it has reached the other end of the hospital, it has changed again beyond recognition."

-----------

Having sorted out her head in the locker room, Brenda was quite calm when she handed Dr. House his first case that afternoon. He was on time, or near enough, which he had been almost every time since his father had arrived. For the sake of the smooth running of the clinic, Brenda was hoping for a long visit.

House was his normal, grumpy self and he was muttering to himself about idiot patients as he made his way to the exam room. Before he got there, Brenda called him.

"Dr. House," when he turned Brenda said: "Before you go in, I would like to remind you that Dr. Cuddy has received her this week's quota of your disgruntled patients, so I would advise you to try and be fairly civil to them."

"And if I'm not?" House questioned somewhat insolently.

Brenda put her finger to the side of her nose, and nodded like Santa and revealed: "I think I can find a way to make you sorry if you are not."

House got the reference to the "Night before Christmas" and he made a face at Brenda, but when he had turned his back to her, he had to smile. She sure knew when she had proper blackmail material!

--------

Once Foreman had finished talking to Blythe and John he made his way to the diagnostics department. When he entered the room where Chase and Cameron were waiting for him, he greeted them by saying:

"We need to search House's home."

"Do we ever!" Chase agreed.

"You two are overreacting to this!" Cameron insisted. "He is just being nice. He can be, you know."

"No, Cameron, we don't know," Foreman made his point. "He does not compliment us, he does not tell people that we do good work or that we are the best team in this country. That is not House! Not the one he normally is."

"Yeah, and you haven't even seen the worst yet," Chase told him.

"What more is there," Foreman was puzzled.

"This," Chase said and turned Foreman to look into House's office where Andie and her mother were both asleep, Andie on a gurney and her mother in House's chair.

"House knows about this?" Foreman questioned.

"Yep," Chase answered. "And not only that, he arranged it."

"Ok, the raid we did was typical House, he loves stealing things, especially if it makes Cuddy's life difficult," Foreman listed. "But this: giving up his balcony and now his office to a cancer kid and her mother. No, that is not House. We need to search his home. Cameron, will you call us if he leaves for home before we come back?"

"No!" Cameron put her foot down. "You two are not going into his home and invading his privacy! If you do that I will go to him, immediately, and tell him what you are doing."

"Cameron!" Chase exclaimed. "You wouldn't do that?"

"Yes I would." Cameron stated. "There is nothing wrong with him. He is just concerned over his mother and worried about Andie. He likes Andie. All else is just results of that. He is not using anything stronger than Vicodin! I'm sure of it, and I will not let you search his home."

"If this was a patient, you would not say that," Foreman said. "If he is on drugs he could end up as a patient himself. Prevention would be better."

"Not if there is nothing to prevent." Cameron was adamant.

"Look, Cameron, can't you see we are worried," Chase tried.

"No. I think you are just curious about his private domain and you want to snoop."

"Would we really do that!" Foreman protested.

"Yes, you would," Cameron said. "Look, his mother is barely out of surgery, we only today confirmed the diagnosis. Any personality change, any odd thing in his behaviour can be traced to his worry about his mother. Can't you see that?"

Foreman hesitated. "Ok, maybe. I give you two more days, but if he isn't showing signs of getting back to his normal self, I am going to search his home and you are going to serve as a look out. Clear?"

"Ok, if he isn't more normal by the day after tomorrow I will not object to you two searching his rooms." Cameron agreed.

-----------

After three hours in the clinic House left there for the day. He hadn't sent a single patient storming to Cuddy. As he handed his last file to Brenda he asked: "So was I a good boy?"

Brenda smiled, made a locking motion over her mouth and took the file.


	17. Monsters

House was back in his office. Andie and her mother had vacated the premises about an hour before, Chase and Foreman had helped them move to Andie's room. Reportedly Andie's mother did feel better after her nap, but was still somewhat disgruntled at House for having forced it on her. She had been heard to mutter something about never trusting "that man" again.

House was rubbing his leg. His stay on the cold balcony – never mind the blankets and all – had not done it good. But unlike Andie, he wasn't dieing, so he didn't mind that so much. But he did mind the return of the pain. Sure he was never totally free of pain, but Cuddy's injection had dulled it for a couple of days and his own worry over his mother had overruled it for the rest of the time. The latter fact had actually surprised him, because he did know that stress usually increased the pain in his leg. He refused to listen to Wilson's psychobabble about him "punishing" himself with the pain in his leg, because that was just bull, but that stress was a factor in his wellbeing he did acknowledge.

He had expected to be in more pain due to his worry, not less – which is how he had convinced Cuddy to give him the morphine injection. And it was morphine this time; he had made sure of it. Besides, Cuddy was fortunately on the same page with Wilson about drugs being preferable to patricide. But instead of increasing his pain, his mother's illness had dulled it, in the same way that an interesting case usually did. Fascinating, but not something he was willing to try again.

The presence of his parents had affected his mood as well. Sure, with less pain in his leg, he had been mellower - perhaps that was a word he could use - than in a long time. He had actually been nice to his underlings – he chuckled to himself - that had them more worried than anything he had ever done before. Perhaps he needed to do something outrageous soon, or they would be searching his home for drugs! They would do it too, because he had taught them. Talk about being hoisted by you own petard! But it wasn't just the lack of pain that made him different. He hated to admit it to himself, but he did not want to make his mother think she had failed in raising him. Which caused quite a bit of conflict in him, as he very much wanted to make his father think that **he** had failed. He was not sure how long he could stay on top of his feelings about and for his father.

He wasn't even quite sure why he hated his father. He was a perfectly ordinary man, not cold, not unfeeling, not unloving. Just unimaginative. He hadn't cheated on his wife, he had done his best to love his son and raise him. House could not turn his back on him for any clear reason – and he could quite easily see why his mother loved the man. But John House had been so glaringly lacking in everything that his son had needed when growing up and so totally unaware of his lack, that House could not have hated him more had he been an abusive parent. And a fortnight of John House asking him about his girlfriends – or lack of them, his work, his hobbies, his friends and then giving his opinion about how lucky House was for being alive and how ungrateful for not appreciating it was more than House could contemplate without reaching for his Vicodin.

He took the pill and looked at it with almost amused resignation before popping it into his mouth. He hated being dependent on it. But that dependency he could deal with. At least it was straight forward thing. He took the pill the pill gave him relief, made it possible for him to function. No ifs, or buts, or especially no what ifs. The real problem he had with the pills was that he had to ask for them. Both Wilson and Cuddy knew what had been done to his leg, they knew he was in chronic pain but still, if he wanted a prescription he still had to convince them that he needed it. What part of "I am in pain" was so hard to understand? None of the words were longer than one syllable! Why did they need elaboration on the point? Pain! Google it or look it up in a dictionary.

Of course he knew that people who didn't know pain like those who suffered from it every day didn't know the absolute quality it could take. There were no degrees to it, there was no such thing as mild, medium or severe pain. There was just pain. It ruled his life, not the drug, pain. The drug just allowed him some negotiating room with the pain. That was the main reason he had sent Stacy away; why he refused even to contemplate anything with Cameron. He was a married man already. Married to his pain. It was his _La Belle Dame Sans Merci_ that hath him in thrall. His cruel mistress was also a jealous one. It really tolerated no other. But in time he had learned to live with it, sometimes it did make a point of reminding him who really was in control, but most of the time he was able to live with it. With the help of Vicodin.

He could have understood Wilson and Cuddy's concern or worry had he been unable to function. But he did his job – well, after a fashion, but it was still the same fashion he had done it before he became a cripple – he paid his bills, washed, eat; did all the things people normally did. What was their problem with that? Because he didn't "share"? Didn't they know him at all? They had to know he hated talking about private things, and you didn't get much more private than pain. Still they kept on telling him to find alternative methods of pain management. All of those methods meant being dependent on other people. Telling new people about his pain, how it had come about, what happened to his leg and "how he felt about it". What the bloody hell did they think his answer was going to be? Happy? Grateful that his bloody girlfriend had wanted her pound of flesh before merrily going her own way? Glad that he was alive? Humble because his doctor and "loved one" had "cared" enough to go against his wishes and make sure he survived? "Survival" was not all that is was cracked up to be!

And even if he was lucky enough to find someone like Ingrid, who didn't talk much nor ask any questions (mainly because she had so little English) he would still be dependent on another human being. And frankly, human beings sucked! You made yourself dependent on them and you were setting yourself up to be screwed, big time. Besides, giving his pain into the hands of someone else also meant letting someone else know exactly how much he hurt at any given time. That was private information and not for sharing or for public consumption. And it would be public. Sure the therapist or whatever person it was in charge of his pain management would not "kiss and tell" – unless his/her ethics were in par with House's own (he shrugged to himself) – but people would know when and where and they could draw their own conclusions and they would. Especially his ducklings would, if he had taught them anything at all about observation. And he had!

He really hated the idea of parading his pain for all to see! Sure, they saw some of it even now, there was no hiding his cane or his limp, but he was good at distraction. When you hide in plain sight, most people don't see you. He made the cane and the limp so much part of his self that people did not see past them - to the pain. Obviously he had been a little too good at it, since he had fooled Wilson and Cuddy, too, both of whom ought to have known better. That is, had they wanted to. Wilson had his own reasons for giving different interpretation to the actions of his friend, and House suspected not all of those reason were pretty or to Wilson's credit. But then, human beings sucked. Cuddy was easier to understand. She felt responsible for what had happened, guilty. And it was human nature to try and protect oneself from things that hurt – like guilt.

He could have let them in a little bit more, he supposed. But his pain was his monster, and he was very protective of it. He knew it well, every claw it had, every bite it took, every nightmare it gave him. Nobody else needed to know. His monster, his closet and he was damned if he was going to out it for all to see.

House shook his head. He really needed to get a grip and find something else to do than sit here morosely thinking himself into deep depression. Fortunately right then Wilson decided to pay a visit, though he didn't look too happy either.

Cameron had reported earlier to House that Wilson had been by to see him, but had left having seen Andie and her mother in his office. It looked that Wilson had an opinion about that and could not wait to voice it.

"House, why did you do it? You had no right to drug her without even asking her permission!" Wilson huffed with righteous anger.

"Well had I asked her permission, she would have refused and it would have been near impossible to slip the pill to her then," House stated like what he had done ought to have been self-evident to anyone with half a brain.

"Then if she refused you shouldn't have done it! It's unethical to give people drugs without their consent and without telling them what the drug is." Wilson was shaking his head at his friend.

"Jimmy, you do remember who you are talking to, right?" House asked.

"Damn it! She lost over two hours of her daughter's life! You had no right to do it."

"Andie told her that she wanted to be alone, so she would have missed some anyway. Most of the time she was asleep, Andie was asleep as well. And sad though it all is, and painful though all this is to Andie's mother, she is not the patient. Andie needs her mother to be there for her, especially towards the end. If she collapses before that, Andie is the one who will suffer. Besides I have more room to manoeuvre here, as I'm doctor to neither of them."

"Which is exactly why you should stay out of it!" Wilson told him. "When you drugged her, you didn't even tell me. I was in my office you could have called me and told me. But no, you drugged her and then you went to see Andie – against her wishes as well, as she had just said she wanted to be alone – and you didn't think me, as their doctor, needed to be informed."

House looked at Wilson considering for a moment. He leaned back in his chair and said: "Why didn't you join us? You obviously saw me on the balcony, knew that Andie was alone with me."

"I had things to do," Wilson responded with some evasion.

"Or could it be that you didn't want to be reminded how much better my balcony is now, compared to yours? I can understand that. There it is, your balcony: alone, unappealing, barren, not much fun at all. And then there is mine: decorated, lighted, it has warmth, fun and – not the least – scintillating company."

"We are not talking about balconies but Andie and her mother here!" Wilson exclaimed.

"Precisely," House responded. "You are being eaten inside by the green-eyed monster. You are jealous."

"Don't be ridiculous! Why would I be jealous and over what?"

"You feel rejected, because for the moment I am the flavour of the day with Andie and her mother. You have been there from the beginning, they have relied on you and you have let them too close to you. Now, all of a sudden, I come with the baubles and chimes and what not, and take over. And you feel rejected and alone and unappealing. And you resent it that all your commitment and work is pushed aside for one short loan of a balcony."

"You ... you are wrong!" Wilson insisted. "I'm happy for Andie, that she has something to bring her some comfort, joy whatever she needs now when she needs it most. I am not jealous!"

"Yes you are," House stated. "Not that you need to be. They have not forgotten you and when the end comes closer they will want you. Not me, you. But right now they are raw with grief and they cannot handle any more of it. And your grieving over Andie is like sandpaper on a sunburn for them right now. They cannot deal with it. For a moment they need a respite from pity, and sadness, and grief. For just a little while they need someone who doesn't give a damn."

"You give a damn," Wilson said looking a little sheepish after House's speech.

"Ok, not much of a damn, then. They will need you later. But till then, you too, take this time and pull yourself together. You need to find your objectivity – or at least some of it. Or you won't be of any use to them, or any other of your patients."

"I ... Maybe. I don't know what I feel anymore. I'm confused, and hurt. Maybe there is something in what you said," Wilson admitted. "At least you are right about me needing to find my objectivity. But I still think you were wrong with that drug."

"Ethically speaking, of course," House agreed. "But I have never let ethics stand in the way of things that need to be done."

"House ... oh, never mind," Wilson sighed. "There really is no point in talking to you, is there."

"And yet you keep on doing it." House smiled at his friend.


	18. Pain and tears

Once Wilson had left his office House got up to walk his leg. Now that he didn't need to worry about his mother and the injection had ceased to have an effect, he could feel the pain again and he could feel how his leg started cramping again. He needed to walk to keep the muscle – what was left of it – limber. He did consider calling Ingrid, but decided against it. He didn't want to admit yet that he might not be able to manage with just walking and Vicodin.

---------

Foreman had been checking on his patients, especially Blythe House and was now on his way to the cafeteria. Cameron was with him as was John House, who were both heading in the same direction. Blythe had expressed a desire to have a nap and had told John to vamoose. Foreman was the first one to round the corner to the corridor he usually used as a short cut to the cafeteria. He stopped short before the others could follow him and backed up. He had seen House doubled over, clutching his leg and he didn't think it was going to be healthy for him to go there, and especially not to let John go there. So he turned quickly to his companions and said.

"We have to take the other route, there is a situation in there. Some privacy is required."

"Come on," John said, "we are nearly there! Surely it cannot be that bad. It's not like we are going to stop and stare."

"I would not want to be the one to decide that, but if you don't want to go back, we can wait a little while here. I'm sure the situation can be resolved fairly quickly," Foreman stalled. However he was not quick enough to stop Cameron from peeking round the corner, and she was gone before he could say more than: "No, Cameron, I don't..." the rest of his sentence he had to swallow. He turned to John and said: "Let us just wait a moment and see if Cameron can help clear the way a little faster."

Cameron run to House and took his arm, he tried to shoo her off, but she told him: "Your father is coming this way, he is just round the corner." She looked around and saw a broom closet just a couple of feet away. He dragged now somewhat co-operative House in there and closed the door.

Foreman had glanced into the corridor long enough to see Cameron succeed in removing House from the scene. He then led John quickly towards the cafeteria drumming his knuckles briefly on the closet door to indicate that they were past it.

Once Cameron had got House into the closet – which fortunately was spacious – she tried to hear Foreman and John House go past. She was leaning against House, trying to dodge his cane and support him against the wall at the same time. When House let a little moan escape him, Cameron grew frantic. What was she going to do? She didn't have a hand to spare to try and muffle the sound, and there was no way she was letting John hear moaning from the broom closet. It was possible that Foreman could make him just walk by, but there was a possibility that he might insist on investigating what was going on. And she could not think of an acceptable explanation for this situation. Even the truth would not work; in fact the truth was probably the last thing that would work, since House would hate his father finding him in pain and the father would hate knowing that his son would rather do anything than let his father know something this important about him.

In desperation Cameron did the only thing she could think of – and if she was honest with herself she knew that the reason she did think of it, was because she had wanted to do it for a long time. She kissed House. She kissed him like his life depended on it. And after an initial shock House kissed her back, and it was more than she had ever even dared to dream of.

----------

Some fifteen minutes later Foreman saw House storm into his office and close the blinds. There were some sounds of things being thrown at which point Foreman told Chase that they better run for it.

"Oh come on, Foreman," Chase complained. "You just came back with our lunch! Can't we just eat it and then leave. House has obviously closeted himself into his office for now. He is not coming out any time soon."

"The last I saw House he was with Cameron. I don't know what happened, but I want to find her and make sure she is in one piece," Foreman explained. "Come on, we can eat in the lab. That's probably where Cameron is anyway."

Chase agreed with a martyred sigh and collected his lunch. They made their way to the lab, where they indeed found Cameron. They had expected her to be doing some busy work, recalibrating things, cleaning, arranging equipment; whatever she could think of. But she was just standing there, staring at the shelves like she couldn't think of anything to do. She seemed dazed, and unaware of her surroundings, like she had ended up here only on autopilot. She seemed to be unaware of the tears running down her cheeks, as well.

"Oh, Cameron!" Foreman sighed and folded her in his arms. "What did he do to you?"

"You'll be happy to know you won't need to search his rooms," Cameron said once she had realized her colleagues were with her. "He is back to normal."

"That was not what I asked," Foreman told her.

"Yeah, if he is back to normal, he could have done anything," Chase agreed.

"No, this I did to myself," Cameron sniffed. "You did try to stop me from going to him, Eric."

"I didn't think it was a good idea, but you were too fast," Foreman nodded.

"Running to my ruin," Cameron smiled ruefully. "House always said that I care too much."

"Ok, enough with the cryptic remarks!" Chase had found some tissues and brought them over. Foreman let Cameron out of his embrace, but kept his hand on her shoulder for support.

"Did Eric tell you that we saw House doubled over with pain in the corridor?"

"Yeah. He filled me in on the way here, because I couldn't see why finding you was so important all of a sudden," Chase explained. "I must say your actions did sound foolish in the extreme. You need to be a fool or extremely brave to shut yourself in a small closet with House in pain."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty," Cameron snapped mildly. "Anyway, I dragged him into the closet out of sight, but he was moaning in pain, so I was afraid his father might hear it and want to investigate. So I kissed him."

"You kissed House!" both Foreman and Chase looked at her appalled.

"And it's so obvious neither of you are gay! or women," Cameron huffed. "Yes, I kissed him and he kissed me back." This time neither of her fellow ducklings said anything, they just stared. "I know he did it because I surprised him and because he needed distraction from his pain, but he did kiss me."

"He must have sucked big time," Chase finally said.

"Or else why are you here crying your eyes out," Foreman concurred.

"It's not the kiss; the kiss was ... Never mind. It's what happened after." Cameron explained.

"What did he do?" Foreman didn't dare voice the first question that had come to his mind: did they do it in the closet and was that where House sucked enough to make Cameron cry.

"He asked me if I was free tonight," Cameron revealed.

"Enough!" Chase demanded: "I already told you to stop with the cryptic sentences. Just tell us."

"Fine," Cameron closed her eyes and went on with the story. "He asked me if I was free and if I would come to his home this evening. Then he asked me if I accepted credit cards as from the free sample he had got I was obviously a top professional and he probably didn't have enough cash on him to meet my price."

"I'm going to kill him!" Foreman exclaimed.

"He called you a ...," Chase didn't even want to say it out loud, though House sure used the word often enough. But this was Cameron. "That is low even for him."

"I brought it on myself," Cameron tried to calm her friends.

"You were just trying to help him," Chase insisted. "He had no right to turn on you like that."

"He didn't ask to be kissed!" Cameron pointed out. "If he had forced a kiss on me, you two would be equally eager to beat him up as you are now. And had I called him every name under the sun for that, you would have thought he merited every one of them."

"But this is different," Foreman tried to explain.

"Because I'm a girl?" Cameron asked, still sniffing a little and wiping her eyes.

"Because you are you," Chase said. "You only tried to help."

"So if my motives are pure, I'm not accountable for the results even if I do something wrong?" Cameron asked them. "The problem with that is that my motives weren't that pure. So please guys, don't blame this on him. I brought this on myself and I'm crying more over my own stupidity than for his actions. He was in pain and we know he gets savage then."

"If you are sure," Foreman agreed hesitantly. "I still think he was out of line, but since you were the one there, I guess I have to let you decide what was what."

"Thank you. And Chase?" Cameron wanted agreement from the Aussie as well.

"Fine. I'm too much of a coward to go after him alone anyway," Chase smiled ruefully.

"Thank you," Cameron hugged them both.

Just then Cuddy walked into the lab.

"Oh!" she exclaimed startled. "If you are busy I can come back later."

Foreman let go of Cameron and Chase backed up a bit too. "No, it's ok," Foreman smile, "It was just a group hug to gather strength because House is being House again."

"I see," Cuddy nodded. "The injection has worn off then."

"Injection?" Cameron asked.

"Oh, shoot!" Cuddy bit her lip. "I wasn't going to say that. But since I did... I gave him a spinal injection of morphine a couple of days back."

"So that is the explanation!" Chase realized.

"Good to know," Foreman agreed. "But you didn't come looking for us to tell us that, so what is it?"

"I was actually looking for Dr. Cameron, but I don't mind you two being present as well," Cuddy explained. "It's just that Dr. Wilson told me that Andie's cancer is advancing and he thinks he needs to put her in coma in three days, possibly two. It just occurred to me that she might want to have one last Christmas party."

"And you want my help with it?" Cameron asked.

"Yes," Cuddy said. "Both with the party and with approaching Andie and her mother with the idea. We need to be sure they both want it and are up to it, before we do anything."

"Her room is not big enough for a party, though," Cameron mused.

"I was hoping to draft the diagnostics department for the party. After all, Andie's balcony is there already," Cuddy pointed out.

"That might not be a good idea right now," Chase was hesitant.

"I agree," Foreman said. "House is back to being House and it seems he is back with vengeance."

"He would not be mean to Andie!" Cameron defended him.

"Why not," Chase asked. "He was mean to you and it's almost the same thing."

"No it is not!" Cameron stated glaring at Chase.

"House is a jerk, but I have never seen him be intentionally mean to children," Cuddy mused. "However, if Andie wants the party, I think I can bribe House into giving in. One party, one injection."

"That would probably do it," Foreman agreed. "I would agree to even harder things to avoid constant pain." He gave a small shudder remembering his own experience with pain.

"I don't like doing it, though," Cuddy said. "He needs to find some other way of handling the pain than medication. Morphine is even more addictive than Vicodin and he is taking too many pills already."

"Why is everyone trying to tell him how to handle his pain?" Foreman asked puzzled. "Don't get me wrong, I think the man is an utter bastard, but he functions. He does his work. He handles his pain. Why do people have to try and interfere with that?"

"Because he is an addict!" Cuddy exclaimed. "Doesn't that concern you? He takes those pills to get high, not just to manage his pain."

"I don't know the amount of pain he has, nor how much medication he needs," Foreman shrugged his shoulders. "But if he is an addict and if he is using the drug to get high then let him. When he is high he is the best damn doctor I have ever seen or even heard of. When he doesn't get his pills, he is just like any one of us, and he makes mistakes."

"I happen to remember what kind of doctor he was before his addiction, and I was his doctor at the time of the operation, so I think I know enough of his medical condition and his abilities to judge what – medically speaking – is better for him," Cuddy stated a little coldly. She didn't like hearing Foreman's differing opinion; she had enough doubts about everything concerning House already. She wasn't even sure she wasn't letting Wilson influence her judgement too much. "But enough of House, we were supposed to plan a party."

"I'm certainly happy to help," Cameron said.

"Good, let's go and see if Andie is up to it." Cuddy sighed in relief. She wanted to get away from Foreman and his opinions.


	19. Party plans

Cuddy and Cameron had found Andie and her mother quite receptive to the idea of a party. That meant that now they had to close the deal on the location. Cameron backed out of the meeting with House and Cuddy went to see him alone. His office blinds were drawn but Cuddy still walked in without knocking – and got something of an eyeful.

House had decided that after his outburst with Cameron, he had to accept that he was not handling the return of his pain well at all. So he had called Ingrid. As Cuddy walked into his office, House was having a full-body massage. Cuddy thanked her lucky stars that he was laying face down on the massage table and that Ingrid was currently working on his shoulders, so the bath sheet was covering him from waist down.

"Go away, Wilson!" House growled without opening his eyes or looking up.

"Not Wilson, I'm afraid," Cuddy said in a small voice trying to decide where to look – the floor looked mighty tempting right then. If only it would open up and swallow her. Oh, shoot! It was just House and she was a doctor. Get a grip, girl!

"Cuddy?" House questioned. He still didn't lift his head or even open his eyes – probably because Ingrid had just started on his neck muscles. "What are you doing here? I've done my clinic hours for the day already."

"I'm not here to talk about your work," Cuddy said. "It's about Andie."

"Wilson's her doctor, not me," House pointed out. "And he is already pissed at me for having slipped that Mickey to Andie's mother, so I don't think we should have any conversation about them without him present as well. He might refuse to refill my prescription. Besides, I'm busy, as you can see."

"You slipped a Mickey to Andie's mother!" Cuddy was appalled.

"Oops! So you hadn't heard of it yet," House grimaced. "My mistake, but don't worry, Wilson already had it out with me."

"Don't worry? You just slipped a Mickey to the mother of a patient, and I'm not supposed to worry!" Cuddy was astonished. "Why did you do it? What if she sues?"

"She won't sue!" House started.

"You always say that, but still 40 per cent of the lawsuits we get are because of you!" Cuddy stated.

"Tense," Ingrid was working on House's shoulders and complained about the effect the conversation was having on him.

"See, you are interfering with her work, Cuddy," House said. "Go away."

"Fine, we can have this conversation some other time," Cuddy agreed. "But I need your ok for something first."

"What?" House turned his head enough to be able to see Cuddy.

"We want to give Andie a Christmas party and we want your office, the conference room and the balcony for it," Cuddy explained. "Tomorrow. The party will start around one o'clock."

"We? Is that a royal we, Your Majesty, or are there some mere mortals involved as well?" House asked.

"Yes, there are more people involved," Cuddy said, and then she threw in her sweetener. "If you agree to this, I will give you another injection."

"One party, one injection?" House checked.

"Yes." Cuddy confirmed.

"Ok. You can have your location. I'll make myself scarce tomorrow, then," House agreed.

"You need to put in an appearance at least," Cuddy reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah. I will. Just don't expect me to stay," House said.

"Ok, when you are done here, you can come into my office," Cuddy said turning to go.

"No," House said, making Cuddy turn back to stare at him. "I don't want the injection now. You will owe it to me. When I want it, I will come to you and you will give it, no questions asked. Agreed?"

"You don't want it now?" Cuddy asked.

"I don't need it now," House answered. "When I need it, I'll come get it."

"Fine, if that is what you want. We can do it that way as well," Cuddy agreed a little puzzled, but since there was no figuring out what was on House's mind she left House to his massage and went next door to tell Cameron that the party was on.

---------------

Late that night House was prowling the corridors. He still didn't have a case, but Wilson had wanted to consult with him over one of his patients, who had developed some unusual symptoms. They had been able to trace them to an infection he had got during his Mexican holiday. They did the tests and got him on the right antibiotics. He was going to be fine, it didn't even interfere with his cancer treatments and he had a good chance of beating his illness – both of them. Wilson had gone home happy, but House had stayed in his office a little longer checking up some new research that he had come across during the search for the right infection. His leg though didn't let him sit for long so he decided to go for a walk before heading home.

House walked to his mother's room and stood there for a moment looking at her sleeping form. John was in his own room, so House had his mother all to himself. He could have woken her up, she wouldn't have minded, but he had no intentions of doing that. He just wanted to check in on her and see for himself that she really was ok still. He almost felt like a parent, which was rather stupid, considering. But he did remember how Blythe had done the same for him. Sure he had been asleep always when her mother checked in on him, but he did retain a strange childhood memory of having sensed her presence even in his sleep. It had always chased away all bad dreams. He rather hoped his visits could do the same for his mother now that she was the one in need of care.

Having left his mother to sleep peacefully, House went on with his round. He stopped by Andie's room next. He opened the door very carefully as he didn't want to wake Andie's mother if she was sleeping. Andie herself would naturally be fast asleep with the help of sedatives and it was unlikely that a mere opening of a door would wake her. He looked in and saw that Andie's mother was out for the count. He stepped quietly inside and turned to look at Andie – and was surprised to find her wide awake.

"Hey, what are you doing awake?" House asked. "Didn't they give you your meds?"

"They did," Andie said. "But I think they don't work so well anymore."

"Are you in pain?" House was concerned.

"A little, more in discomfort actually than what I would call pain," Andie revealed.

"And knowing something of pain myself, I interpret that as pain that would make those who are unaccustomed to it scream for painkillers?" House made his statement a question for forms sake only.

"I don't know about that, but I have had worse," Andie shrugged.

"I will increase your dosage," House limped to her bed. "You need sleep otherwise you will deteriorate faster."

"Please don't," Andie asked.

"Why?" House questioned her stopping in his actions.

"I don't think my not sleeping will change anything one way or the other. Not anymore." Andie sighed.

"That is possible," House agreed. "But that is still no reason for you to lie here awake in the middle of the night. Mind tends to do all sorts of tricks to you at night, and not all of them are pleasant."

"I know. But sometimes it's very peaceful, too. The night, I mean." Andie mused.

"Some of it, but usually not when you are in pain," House said. "Peace and quiet often increases the pain, because there is nothing else going on."

"Maybe. But I still don't want to sleep yet," Andie pleaded. "Could you stay with me for a while? Then when you go, you could give me the drugs."

"Ok, I could do that, but I don't want to wake your mother," House said.

"It's ok," Andie assured him. "She won't wake up. She agreed to take another Mickey from Dr. Wilson."

"It's only a Mickey if she doesn't know she is taking it," House had to explain. "But I'm glad she agreed to take it. She needs her rest. But if we are not disturbing her, then sure, I can stay." House sat down: "I hear you are going to have a party tomorrow."

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy and Dr. Cameron are arranging it with Mother," Andie agreed.

"Do you want to have it?" House asked sensing some hesitation in Andie.

"I think I do, but somehow it feels weird to have a party just before you die," Andie wondered.

"I don't really see why. There are plenty of people who come here from parties and some of them we cannot save and some of them we can. The only difference with you is that you know this is going to be your last party and that it really is a farewell party and not a Christmas party."

"I suppose," Andie said. "Maybe we shouldn't call it a Christmas party but a Christmas funereal?"

"I would go for that," House agreed. "But I think your mother and the rest of the gang might find it a little depressing. How about Christmas farewell?"

"That I think would work," Andie approved.

"Ok, I'll pass the message on to Cameron," House promised. "Any other concerns?"

"None, I think," Andie tried to assure him, but House wasn't in a buying mood.

"Look Andie, if you agreed to the party because you didn't want to disappoint Cuddy and Cameron, they are big girls, they can live with your refusal. If you agreed to distract your Mother from your death, nothing can do that. If you agreed because you felt obliged to thank people for having been there for you during your illness, you can find some other way of doing it. If this is about giving people a chance to say goodbye or anything other than that you just would like to have one last party, then say so. You have the right to be absolutely selfish and do the things the way you like best. If you want to say goodbye to people but just not with a party, we can arrange it. But tell me, truly: what do you want."

"I want to say goodbye to people and I would like to have one last party, but I'm just not sure what the party will be like." Andie told him.

"It will be whatever you like it to be, just tell your mother what you want and she will see to it," House assured her. "You can have it more as a reception than a party if you feel you are not up to a real party."

"What's a reception?" Andie wanted to know.

"Well it's what the royalty have. You will be sitting in your bed like a princess and the people will come to you with their greetings and you will graciously accept them. Once that is done they will move to another room, whence you can summon them at will. Or we can have a party which is a bit like an Irish wake, where people sing and tell stories and generally try to share all their good memories with each other." House told her.

"That latter sounds rather cool," Andie mused. "But will people want to have fun, with me, that is. As I'm dying soon?"

"If they don't want to have fun, they can stay out of the party," House stated simply. "You are the one that matters here, if you want fun then it's our business to see that you get what you want. Just because this is your last Christmas is no reason not to make merry. There is a song about it, too."

"You mean the Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas?" Andie asked.

"Yep, there are several versions of it around but the one I like best goes," House sung very softly to Andie: "_Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It may be your last / Next year we may all be living in the past / Have yourself a merry little Christmas / Make the Yuletide gay. / Next year we may all be many miles away. / No good times like the olden days/ Happy golden days of yore/ Faithful friends who were dear to us / Will be near to us no more. / But at least we all will be together / If the Lord allows. / From now on we'll have to muddle through somehow. / So have yourself a merry little Christmas now._"

"So what you are saying is that I should have fun and not mind that everybody knows I'm dieing soon?"

"Yes, that is what I'm saying. Have your party. Have fun. We are all dieing sooner or later, and just because we know that you are going sooner, is no reason for you not to get what you want."

Andie pondered on his words for a moment. "Ok, I want an Irish wake sort of Christmas party."

"Good for you!" House agreed, he didn't feel compelled to point out that in Irish wakes everybody got royally sloshed, because that was one thing that was going to be different in this party. He got up, ready to give Andie her meds and then leave, but she reached for his hand.

"What's it like?"

"What?"

"Death, and what comes after."

House sat down again. "You have been dead before. Do you remember anything from that?"

"No," Andie said. "I remember being put to sleep and then I woke up to my Mother holding my hand."

"Well, you will probably be in chemically induced coma when you die this time, too, so the actual death will probably be similar. Only you won't wake up."

"But what comes then?"

"Haven't you spoken with your mother about that?" House asked.

"Yes, but I would like to know what you think."

"I don't know. I have a few ideas, as I'm sure all people have, but there is no way to know, so I think you should go with what your mother said."

"You really have no idea?" Andie looked disappointed.

"Well, I did get sort of a preview once," House felt compelled to say. "When I was ill with my leg. I flatlined for a minute or so."

"What was is like?"

"Lots of light, no pain," House told her. "Didn't feel like a bad place at all."

"So you don't think there is going to be Hell?"

"No. And even if there is, it will not be your destination. If there is any Hell at all, you have had yours here on Earth already. I am quite sure you have nothing to worry about."

"You are really sure?"

"My word on it, and I don't give that lightly," House assured her.

"Ok, then," Andie seemed reassured and calm now. "You can give me the meds now, then."

"Good," House said and did as asked. "Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite."

"This is a hospital," Andie said yawning. "No bedbugs allowed."

House waited till Andie was asleep and then he limped out of the room. Had he looked at Andie's mother one more time he might have seen that her eyes were closed more tightly than they would have been were she truly asleep and there were tears on her cheeks.


	20. The Christmas wake

_Thank you for the reviews :-), I'm glad you keep on liking this story, because I like it! I thought I had it all planned when I started, but the characters just want to play their own game, so I end up wondering what they are going to do next almost as much as you do!_

_And in case you have got confused, this is day seven in the story. The date however is unknown._

----------

The next day House stayed away from his office almost from the moment he got to work. The ladies had taken it over. Cuddy, Cameron, nurses and, not the least, House's mother were busy decorating the place for the party. Blythe's operation had been four days ago and she still got tired easily and had to sit down frequently, but she was a tireless general even when she was sitting in her wheelchair directing the efforts of all others. And that would have included her son, had he been foolish enough to stay around.

House had phoned messages the night before to Wilson informing him about the change in Andie's medication, and to Cuddy about Andie's wishes concerning the party, but other than that he was determined to stay out of it all. Unfortunately pretty much the only place he could escape to was the clinic and with Nurse Brenda having blackmail material on him, he actually had to see patients when he was there. And he couldn't even go out of his way to insult them!

At least most of his patients were kids who often were quite interesting. Pity about their parents, though. You did end up wondering if the eugenics programmes in early 20th century didn't have it right after all, about only the fit being allowed to have children. Surely there ought to be some kind of test before people were allowed to reproduce. But no, no such luck. In a few cases you had to wonder how the people in question had managed to get the deed done at all. Had one of them just rolled over or backed accidentally into the other and the right body parts just ended up meeting? Talk about mystery of life! Nearing one o'clock he badly needed a break from the patients and was almost happy to go and see what had been done for the party.

The conference room had been selected as the main party area. It was decorated mostly in pink, but had other colours like green and silver in it as well. The table was filled with goodies and soft drinks. Coffee, tea and hot chocolate were on offer as well. House's office had been turned into a room for Andie, her bed and all the monitors and paraphernalia she now needed was brought in. She was already there when House arrived. The doors between the rooms were open and some of the goodies were filling House's desk as well. Decorations were mostly pink in here as well. The balcony was as it had been; except someone had rigged strings of pink heart shaped lights all over it like a canopy.

"Everything to your satisfaction?" House asked Andie.

"Yes, I think this is going to be perfect," Andie responded with a satisfied sigh.

"We really want to thank you for everything," Andie's mother said.

"Everything?" House smiled. "I thought you were somewhat unhappy with my actions yesterday."

"I got over it," she stated. For a moment it looked like she was going to say something more, but she changed her mind and just smiled.

The musketeers were the first to arrive for the party, with Blythe and John; and soon Cuddy and Wilson were there, too. Lots of nurses and other people working in the children's cancer ward or who knew Andie for some other reason came and went during the next couple of hours, as did those of the cancer patients who were able to walk or could use a wheel chair. Christmas songs were sung, stories both fairytales and real reminiscences were exchanged. Wilson naturally had quite a few memories about Andie, as he had been with her from the start of her illness.

"Remember that time you made the teacher think you had eaten chalk?" He asked Andie.

"Yeah," Andie smiled broadly. "Though it wasn't just me, Becky was the one who got the candy first and then when we realised it looked like chalk, we made the plans together."

"What are you talking about?" Cuddy asked.

"See, it was during the first round of treatments, Andie and Becky and some other kids that were in-patients at the time were attending school in the mornings. I think the teacher's name then was Susan, and she worked the afternoons in the local primary school. Anyway, the girls got these big, white candy-canes from somebody and realised that if you break off a piece, it looks just like the chalk that Susan was using in the schoolroom," Wilson explained. "So with that inspiration they decided to play a trick on their teacher and the girls put a piece of candy each into their pockets and went to their lessons. Once there, they took the first chance to take a piece of chalk – making sure that Susan saw them do it – exchanged it for the candy in secret and then they just ate it. Poor Susan was frantic, because obviously the chalk was not the most hygienic thing around, and she had no idea anyway what chalk might do to the girls. And quite frankly, I didn't know either. The girls had us franticly trying to figure out what to do about their sudden urge to eat chalk. And while we were running around scared they were having giggling fits!"

"We didn't really fool you," Andie giggled. "I think you were worried when Susan called you, but once you got there you were pretty sure that we had been faking."

Wilson took a deep breath and was about to start a sentence but she looked up first and saw House shake his head slightly. Wilson changed his mind about what he was going to say and he let out some air before saying: "Well, chalk doesn't really taste that good, so it was surprising in itself that you would eat it. I had some time to think on my way to the schoolroom and I just thought that there might be something else going on, especially as it seemed that you had made sure Susan saw you do it."

"We did apologize to her," Andie reassured her mother, who seemed not to have known the story before. "But it was fun."

Blythe had seen the exchange between House and Wilson and once she had nudged her son to the other room she said: "You were the one to figure it out, weren't you?"

"I just asked Wilson a couple of pertinent questions," House shrugged. "After all, it was just the sort of thing I would have done."

"Did you put them up to it?" John House asked with some disapproval.

"No," House answered shortly. "I didn't even meet Andie till a year ago and I never saw Becky."

"Oh, I see," John muttered. He looked around to find something else to say and saw someone in the corridor who caught his attention. "Greg, I think that nun is looking for someone in here."

House looked up. "That's Sister Augustine," he beckoned her inside. "Come in Sister."

"Hi, Dr. House," Sister Augustine smiled. "I don't want to intrude."

"It's ok," House said. "This is very informal. These are my parents Blythe and John House. This is Sister Augustine, a former patient of mine."

Greetings were exchanged and then House's parents went to get something to drink leaving the Sister with House: "I brought you your Christmas tea."

"Good," House exclaimed. "I was wondering when you would have time to bring it."

"You will drink it judiciously?" Sister Augustine reminded him before handing the tin over.

"As opposed to drinking it religiously?" House asked archly. "Don't worry I will be careful not to give myself a heart attack."

"I'm glad to hear that," the Sister smiled. "I'm sure there are plenty of people who need your skills like I did."

"Possibly," House shrugged. "Which remind me, how's the skunk?"

"Thriving," Sister Augustine replied with a twinkle in her eye. "And how are the miracles?"

"About as scarce as IUDs in a nun," House answered ruefully, "You never find one when you need it." He indicated to the other room and Andie with his head.

"That's Andie!" the Sister recognised her. "Is this her party?"

"Yes," House told her. "She is saying goodbye to her friends. I had forgotten that you must know her, too, since you visit the cancer ward sometimes. Do you want to see her?"

"I would like to, very much," Sister Augustine agreed. "She told me that you gave her an extra year."

"She is still dieing," House replied.

"Yes, but you still gave her a year," she repeated. "Your problem could be that your definition of a miracle is a little too narrow. Sometimes the miracles are very little; they just have a mighty wallop in them – a bit like an IUD in a nun."

"Maybe," House wasn't convinced. "But if you talk to Andie, there is something I think I might need to mention."

"What?"

"As you are a nun, there is a chance that she will ask you about ... you know, afterlife," House was turning slightly red.

"That is a possibility," Sister Augustine agreed intrigued.

"Well, you know my views on that, but Andie was awake last night when I checked in on her, and she wanted to know my opinion on ... you know, that thing," House was fumbling with his words a little. "I ... I lied to her. ... Not so much as outright lied to her, but there was omission and misdirection. If you talk with her..."

"I will be careful," the Sister smiled. "I will do my best not to say anything that might make her suspect your veracity."

"Thank you," House sighed relieved. "I got the feeling that what I said reassured her, made her feel safe. Given the situation, I would not want that to change just because somebody accidentally made her doubt my words."

"Don't worry, I will be careful," Sister Augustine reassured him. "Besides it's quite possible that she won't seek a second opinion when she has yours."

"Why not?" House asked. "You did."

"And God told me to trust yours," the Sister said before going to the other room to greet Andie.

"Have you ever thought, that you might just be hearing voices," House called softly after her, but still loud enough for her to hear. "You know, like a schizophrenic." Sister Augustine just laughed at him.

----------

Andie thoroughly enjoyed her party. She did rest on the balcony a couple of times, but other than that she was present the whole time. After two and a half hours they wrapped it up and Andie was wheeled back into her room. Just before they left, Andie's mother stopped by House and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek whispering "Thank you" into his ear at the same time and she was gone before House could do more than blink.

"What? ... What the hell was that?" House was puzzled. "I ... Why? I didn't do anything!"

"She probably just wanted to thank you for letting us have this party here," Cuddy tried to guess. "And you have been very patient with all this today."

"Yeah, well," House was embarrassed. "It's not like we have a case right now so the space was free."

"As you still don't have a case, or so I presume," Blythe House intervened. "Do you mind if we just sit here for a little longer and rest from our efforts?"

"Mother, you know you can talk me almost into anything, so by all means, let yourself and your troops get to your well earned rest before you start cleaning up all this," House agreed. "There is still plenty of food and drinks left so why not just go on with the party for now. Tomorrow is soon enough to clean."

"Nice try House," Wilson inserted. "You just want the food to stay here longer so that you can stash some of it away for your own use."

"Wilson, you wound me!" House put his hand on his heart. "Would I do something like that?"

"Yes!" said Wilson, Cuddy, Cameron, Chase and Foreman all in unison.


	21. Memory

Blythe, John, Wilson, Cuddy, Cameron, Foreman and Chase were sitting at the table sipping their beverage of choice and House was prowling round the room with a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Sit down son," John House said. "You are making me nervous with your pacing."

"Sorry, no can do," House answered without stopping or looking at his father. "My leg is acting up. I need to walk off the cramps in it."

"Doesn't that bother any of you?" John asked the rest of the people at the table.

"No," Cameron said. "We're used to it, and at least when he does it in one room we don't need to follow him."

"My little ducklings!" House threw in with a false sweet voice.

"You follow him?" John was puzzled.

"If we have a case and we need to talk about it, then obviously yes," Chase explained.

"So any of you guys dating each other?" was the next question from John.

"Dad!" House protested before his mother (who had already put her hand on John's) could say anything. "If you are going to get details of their personal lives out of them, could you wait till I'm out of the room? I don't want to know their answers."

"Really?" Wilson wondered. "I thought you were the most curious man I knew."

"First, you have now met my father, so no I am not," House pointed out. "Second, I'm not curious about things that don't matter. Whatever is currently going on in the private lives of my fellows does not affect their work; ergo, I don't care if they are having threesomes at the end of every day!"

"I would have thought you'd be very interested if we were having threesomes," Chase muttered.

"Sorry Chase," House once again proved that there was nothing wrong with his hearing. "You have great hair, but you are not my type."

"I think this conversation has gone quite far enough," Blythe intervened. "Can we change the subject?"

"Thank you, Mother," House said. "Indeed we can. Didn't you have a meeting with the therapist this morning? How did it go?"

"I think it went well," Blythe was happy to answer. "But it really seems its back to school with this illness. There are so many things to learn! It almost seems that the management of this MG is more fatiguing than the illness itself."

"At first it may indeed look like that," Foreman agreed. "But once you get it all worked into your routines you will find that it's not much different than managing any other chronic illness, like diabetes for example."

"I hear you are leaving the hospital in two days?" Wilson asked.

"Yes, we are," John said. "And I'm rather glad about it, because living in a hospital when you are not ill yourself is not that much fun. Though I have seen worse cafeterias than the one you have here."

"Not many," House threw in from the sidelines.

"You seem to be wolfing their Reuben's regularly enough," Cuddy rose to defend her hospital.

"He is," Blythe smiled. "And thank you Lisa for helping us with the flat."

"No need to thank me," Cuddy said. "That is why the hospital has those flats: so that out-patients have somewhere to live if their homes are too far away. Besides, you are paying normal rent so it's not like I'm doing you any special favours."

"But you will still be around a lot, then," Cameron assumed.

"Yes, I'm still under observation and Eric seems to want to do more tests to check how the medication works with me," Blythe agreed. "And I still have several appointments with the therapist."

"I just want to make sure that everything is covered before I let you out of my sight," Foreman explained.

"He knows his career depends on it," House inserted.

"Enough!" Blythe demanded. "I'm sure I will be just fine and you would not make things difficult for Eric just because something unexpected goes wrong."

"Yes, I would," House stated. "Because there really are very few unexpected things that cannot be traced to the doctor in charge."

"Oh, yes," Wilson sighed. "Blame the doctor! You never trust anyone else. Whenever you get a patient you must do all the tests and all the scans and everything all over again, because you think the previous doctors messed up."

"They do," House shrugged. "Most doctors are idiots."

"I thought it was the patients," Cuddy laughed.

"Them too," House agreed.

"And you are the only one who knows anything?" John asked his son with some exasperation.

"I'm the only one who will not pass the bucket," House said. "They come here they stay here until I know what is wrong with them."

"You were always such a know-it-all," John sighed. "Even when you were 16 you thought you knew better; would not listen to wiser heads, no matter what."

"I have always listened to wiser heads," House flipped at his father.

"Is that why Toby was able to con you into warming his toes?" John asked his son with a somewhat patronising smile.

"Here we go again!" House looked up appealing to the powers that be.

"I find it hard to believe anyone has ever been able to con House into anything," Cuddy wondered. "My experience tends to be that he is the one doing the conning."

"It's and old story," Blythe tried to silence her husband. "Nothing nobody wants to hear, I'm sure."

"I'm interested!" Wilson inserted. He was quite happy to hear anything that might take House down a notch or two.

"Well, we had been stationed in Japan," John obliged. "That is where Greg got it into his head to become a doctor. I don't know why; I had quite expected him to end up in the military like me, but for some reason he wanted to be a doctor. Anyway, once we were home we found a house next to a VA facility that was helping men wounded in the war to get back to civilian life. This was in 1975, you understand. Most of the veterans in there were there only for a few months, possibly a year until they got back to their families, but there were two men there, who didn't have any families and had been there for ten years already. Toby and Jon. They were best friends since I don't know kids, I think."

"Regular David and Jonathan!" House inserted with a twist of sarcasm.

"Anyway," John went of ignoring his son. "Toby told Greg that his toes were freezing and Greg spent hours with him trying to find ways to warm them up. He spent hours in the library trying to find something to help; he talked with doctors, nurses, and anyone he could think of. It got downright embarrassing!"

"Why?" Cameron asked. "I know it is disconcerting to hear that he took such interest in a patient – well, sort of a patient, I suppose, when we are used to him not even wanting to meet them, but I don't think I get the point of your story."

"The point is that Toby had no toes!" John laughed – though nobody joined in. They still waited for the punch line. "Toby had lost his legs in Vietnam. His left foot was amputated from the ankle, and his right leg from the knee. He didn't have any toes that could freeze!"

Cameron opened her mouth to say something but before she could utter it, House frowned her into silence. Foreman seemed to have an opinion, too, but after one glance at House he, too, kept his peace.

"Oh," Wilson said lamely. "I see." Then he chose to remain silent as well.

House took his coffee and headed out of the room: "You don't mind if I go and sulk in the balcony, now?"

"Greg?" Blythe House called after him.

"Its ok, Mother," he called back, but did not stop.

--------

About fifteen minutes later Cuddy followed House to the balcony. She found him sitting on the recliner with the pink blanket covering his legs. She took the other chair and a blanket for herself.

"So what was the real story? The one you don't want your father to know?" she asked.

"It's not a question of me not wanting him to know. I did try to tell him the truth at the time, but he is a man who does not believe unless he can see proof. Explaining such a thing as phantom pain to him – no way can you succeed!" House laughed sarcastically.

"But what was the story? I would like to know."

"Toby and Jon were both wounded at the same time. Toby's loss Dad already told you, but Jon lost both his legs from mid-thigh down. They both felt their legs, but Toby was fortunate. He only sensed cold. Jon had been fine at first, at least after the stumps had healed, but then five years after that he started to feel pain; a little at first, then more and more. He had tried to get help, but it was like Toby's cold toes, either nobody believed him or if they did, they didn't think anything could be done as the legs just weren't there. You know that there has been research on phantom pain only recently and there are still very little we can do about it. In 1975 it was even worse. I tried quite a few of the methods that are used today: massage, cold and warm compresses, pressure, binding, over the counter pain medication ... The list was pretty impressive even if I say so myself. Finally we found that the only thing that worked for Jon was morphine."

"Morphine!" Cuddy exclaimed. "How did you get him morphine?"

"Stole it," House said simply. "Once we had discovered that, we knew we were in trouble. First of all, the supply was uncertain – I had no way of knowing how long I could get it and secondly it is highly addictive and will eventually cease to work. The pain was getting worse and Jon knew he could not handle it long, not without medication."

"So what did he do?"

"As I said, Toby and Jon were like David and Jonathan," House mused. "They were lovers, though I would not suggest you try to make my Father see that. They were a lot like an old married couple; they had been together for fifteen years. We discussed all the options we had, and Jon decided that his only option was to kill himself. Toby agreed to it. Jon died a week later."

"He couldn't handle the pain?" Cuddy asked.

"No. It robbed him of any life he had left." House explained. They sat in silence for a moment.

Then Cuddy had to ask: "Is that why you refused to let us amputate your leg?"

"Because I was afraid of phantom pain?" House clarified. Cuddy nodded. "Well if that was the reason for my refusal, then I got right royally screwed, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry," Cuddy didn't know what else to say.

"No, fear of pain was not the reason I refused," House said. "I just could not give you permission to do it. That is all."

"I'm sure that is not _all_, you always have a reason, and you haven't given me one yet."

"Maybe," House admitted. "But either the reason is private, or something I don't think others could understand. I'm rather used to not being understood, you know."

"Yeah," Cuddy bit her lip. "I sort of gathered that much."

"He actually talked to Toby, you know," House went on. "He asked Toby to confess to me that he had been conning me because my obsession was becoming publicly embarrassing."

"How do you know?" Cuddy asked. "John does not seem like the sort of man who would have told you that."

"No, he didn't," House agreed. "Toby told me. He offered me a chance to back off, stop my research. But I was intrigued. I found phantom pain puzzling and I wanted to find out as much as I could about it. So I told Toby that it didn't matter. That what my Father thought did not matter anymore. And it didn't."


	22. Serenade

_I noticed that I had used the name Joe again! The previous Joe was Georgia's beau, whose full name was Joseph so I went back and changed the script to give the full name. This second Joe was short for Jonathan, so I changed the abbreviation to Jon, just so that if I end up using Joe again, you will not immediately think "suicide". This ought to be the last one described in this story – if the characters choose to behave, that is! They do tend to have a bit of a mind of their own_.

_About the music in this chapter: I'm not sure if Hugh Laurie can play the instrument that is used, but he did play pretty much anything he could lay his hands on, on the comedy series "Fry & Laurie". And anyway, this is fiction and this is House – who by my definition can do anything! Right? _

----------

Cuddy was still on the balcony with House when Blythe came to see her son.

"I'm sorry, Greg," Blythe said. "He didn't mean anything with it."

"I know, mother," Greg reassured her. "Don't worry about it. It's been going on for 47 years; I'm used to it by now."

"Would you like to sit down," Cuddy didn't think she was wanted right there and then. "I need to go and run my hospital."

"Thank you, Lisa," Blythe responded. "I would like to sit down for a moment."

"The seat is warm and so is the blanket," Cuddy told her, helping her with the blanket and then leaving mother and son alone.

"What did you do with Dad?" House asked.

"I told him I wanted to speak with you alone," Blythe told him. "So I left him in the company of Allison."

"Oh, dear," House said with exaggerated dread. "That might not be such a good idea! Cameron is like Dad in that she cannot tell a lie. And if she thinks somebody is wrong... It could get ugly."

"I don't think you need to worry, you made it pretty clear you did not want her contribution to this situation between you and your father."

"I would feel greatly reassured if my not wanting something had stopped her before," House rolled his eyes.

"Really?" Blythe was surprised. "I would have thought your opinion matters to her a lot."

"Well, it did, I have to admit that," House conceded. "She used to bend over backwards to please everyone and especially me. Lately, though, she has grown a backbone and goes against my opinions and even orders on regular basis."

"Well good for her," Blythe was impressed.

"I agree," House said. "She may even have a truly original opinion one of these days."

"Greg!" Blythe admonished him. "Just because she is a nice young woman is no reason for you to sneer at her."

"I sneer at everybody, why should she be an exception?" House asked. "Or do I need to ask?"

"I'm not telling you what to do with your life," Blythe said. "But that does not mean I cannot make some suggestions. But enough of that, you are certainly old enough to know your own mind."

"Thank you, Mother," House smiled. "It is so good to know that you will not interfere!"

Before they got any further with their conversation Wilson came to the balcony to have a word with House. He did feel a bit awkward having been the one who got John to tell the story, but he still wanted to clear the air as soon as possible.

"I ... I need to go and give Andie her medication now," Wilson informed House, trying to gauge the mood on the balcony at the same time.

"The meds are not working very well any longer," House responded normally. "You need to increase the dosage quite a lot, and once you do she will not be very lucid anymore."

"I know. I don't think I can put off inducing the coma for longer than two days anymore." Wilson was depressed.

"That would be my estimation as well. You need to prepare her mother."

"Yes. Though we have discussed it, it will still not be easy. I really don't know how she will survive all this," Wilson shook his head.

"You do know that once Andie is gone, you will not see her mother again, either. Or possibly in a month or so when she comes over to thank you one last time for everything before she moves to California?" House asked Wilson.

"You don't know that for sure," Wilson denied.

"Jimmy, we, this hospital, all this, is completely tied to Andie's cancer. Her mother will not want to remember her as the cancer-kid. She will want to remember her daughter as her daughter, the way she was at home. Coming here, seeing us will be too painful. You do know this, since Andie is not the first child you have been unable to save." House spoke earnestly to his friend.

"House ... "Wilson put up his hand to stop his friend. "I'll think of all that once this is over. Just let go now."

"Ok." House agreed a little dubiously. "Andie may be feeling a little deflated after the party," House then went on. "Would you open her window – her room was on this side of the building, wasn't it."

"Yes, it is, but why does that matter," Wilson asked puzzled. "And why must I open her window?"

"Just do it," House said. "Trust me. Besides, you owe me."

"Oh, very well," Wilson agreed. "I'll go home after I see Andie, so good night Blythe and thanks for your help with the party."

"You're welcome," Blythe smiled. "See you tomorrow."

After Wilson had gone, House stood up and went into his office. He returned with a trumpet.

"I got this from John Henry Giles," House told his mother.

"After you cured his paralysis?" Blythe asked.

"Yes. How did you know?" House wondered.

"It was a miracle and made the papers. Of course that Hollywood doctor was there in every story trying to make it appear like he had decided to consult with you and had been there actively involved the whole way! That your contribution was just a minor push in the right direction, which finally helped him solve the medical mystery." Blythe didn't sound very impressed. "Of course, it was very difficult to recognise you in his story."

"I bet," House sneered. "Anyway, I got a trumpet out of it. Sure, John Henry told me not to play it, but I think he would forgive me this once."

House checked his watch to make sure that Wilson had had time to go to Andie's room and open the window. Then he leaned against the wall and lifted the instrument to his lips. First he played simply the melody to "Merry Little Christmas": "_Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It may be your last / Next year we may all be living in the past / Have yourself a merry little Christmas / Make the Yuletide gay. / Next year we may all be many miles away. / _Then he started to jazz it up, to give it the blues, to tease it, elaborate it and weave in feelings that nobody who didn't know him – and hardly any did – would have associated with him. The music soared and wept, it smiled, it bled with grief and it comforted the soul. He immersed his pain into it, and Andie's pain. The losses they had been through and were going through, and yet in all that there was a thread of hope of something. Of finding answers, solving puzzles, - of finding what comes when everything else is over. Finally after 20 or so minutes he returned to the melody and finished: _From now on we'll have to muddle through somehow. / So have yourself a merry little Christmas now,_ drawing the last note to its extreme and letting it die softly.

---------------

All over the hospital and the grounds people were listening to this Christmas serenade wondering where it could be coming from. Most people presumed it was a recording or possibly a live performance on radio. Nobody suspected the truth. Not even Wilson, who at least knew something, was going to happen.

Wilson had opened the window as requested and he was just about to give Andie her drugs, when the first notes floated into the room. Andie asked him to wait, so that she would be able to hear her song properly before the drugs made her drowsy. She didn't say that this was her song just that she wanted to hear it.

Her mother didn't say anything either, because she felt the moment Andie had shared with House the night before was private, but she felt her eyes tear up again at the kindness the gruff, unsocial doctor was showing to her little girl. She knew House by reputation; she had spent far too much time in PPTH not to have heard several stories about the eccentric diagnostician. The way he was behaving with Andie did not fit his fame. Yet it did fit the man. Somehow, somewhere, in some strange private universe Andie had connected with House. And he was ready to do things for her that he would probably never do for anyone else. Just for Andie, because she was dieing and needed him.

Once the last note had petered out, Andie sighed and nodded to Wilson to give her the meds. She didn't say anything, just smiled. Her mother held her hand and though she didn't sleep, she did snuggle into her covers drowsily. She would receive other, stronger medicines later for the night, but for now she was in an almost pleasant state between sleep and awake.

Wilson talked with her mother about the predicted schedule for the final chemically induced coma and how long after that he expected Andie to live. It was difficult for Andie's mother to hear it all, but she took it bravely. There was no choice, and if Andie was prepared then she needed to be, too.

Wilson was relieved that the talk had gone so well, but he couldn't help the nagging feeling that it had gone so well, because somehow the music had prepared the way. That somehow House had formed a secret with Andie and her mother that he, Wilson was not party to. He didn't want to name the feeling it gave him, because jealousy did not fit his idea of himself, but he still had a sneaking suspicion that House had been right – as usual – about him feeling rejected because House was the "flavour of the day". Wilson shook his head to dislocate such thoughts and decided to go home. These doubt were sure to be gone by tomorrow, after a nights sleep.

------------

Foreman had been the only one left in the diagnostics department conference room when House started to play. Chase had clinic duty, Cameron had recruited John House to help her with some of the cleaning and they were taking some mugs and thermoses back to the cafeteria. When he heard the trumpet, Foreman too first thought that it was a recording, but he decided to go and see. Houses office was empty, and when he sneaked a look to the balcony he saw Blythe there, sitting in a chair with blankets around her and her eyes were closed. She was listening to her son, who was the one making the music.

Foreman made sure that House could not see him, but he stayed near the balcony door listening. He could not get over it. House never ceased to amaze him. If he lived to be a hundred he would never get this man. The music he heard didn't seem to fit the man who enjoyed being crude and rude and socially unacceptable. And yet, somehow, the music was the man. – Or then he had just eaten too much at the party and was having indigestion induces attack of melancholia and pensiveness.


	23. Useless but determined

_About the previous chapter: I don't know if House can play a trumpet (now I can name the instrument without spoiling the surprise) but I wanted him to play something on the balcony. I could not fit a piano in there, guitar didn't have the feeling I wanted and I knew he had the trumpet, so I just decided he can play it. There is nothing in the canon that says he can, but then there is nothing in it that says he cannot, so I just made up my own mind about it._

_In this chapter House starts a case in which I make use of the episode "Three Stories", I have elaborated on the information and invented some new "facts". Usually I do search for information on the medical things to make sure I at least get them half-way right, but this time I didn't. Mainly because I didn't think I could find anything. So please, suspense your disbelief and just go with it._

_------------_

Next morning House came to work at his usual time. He had gone to see both his Mother and Andie before he had gone home the night before and both of them had done well – respective situations taken into consideration. He had slept better than in a week, but that wasn't still that good. He felt tired and his leg bothered him. Pretty much the only thing that had got him out of bed that morning was the knowledge that if things got worse he could go to Cuddy and get his injection.

He limped into his office, which was mercifully free of all party paraphernalia by then. His underlings were next door, but didn't pay much mind to his arrival, which made it pretty clear that there had been no new case waiting for them when they got in. Foreman did give him a searching glance when he got in, but it wasn't the first time his affirmative action hire was puzzling over something he had done. He just hoped it was not Cameron. He really didn't want a lecture on how badly he had behaved with her. Ok, she had sort of provoked him, but that did not stop him from feeling guilty for having made Cameron cry – again. Sure, it was for her own good, but ... why couldn't she just learn already!

House left his stuff into his office and visited Wilson to discuss Andie. No new developments there. Wilson had increased the pain medication to its maximum – that is to the maximum that Andie could handle and still be lucid. Having discussed it with Andie and her mother, Wilson had decided to put Andie into the coma as soon as the medication was going to rob her of her ability to interact with people anyway. It was not a very cheery conversation, and House didn't think Wilson could take any of his jokes right then, so he didn't stay for long. He headed towards the clinic with a resigned sigh.

He had only just left Wilson's office when he saw a medical student approach him. She looked possibly Korean and he thought he had seen her before somewhere. But all the students looked alike; especially the Asian ones who all had the same studious look on their faces, and parental pressure on their shoulders. House turned his back to her.

"Doctor House!" She called after him. He walked on. "Please, Dr. House, I need your help."

"So do the patients at the clinic, got to go," House threw over his shoulder.

She wasn't deterred. She run to House and stepped in front of him, when he tried to go around her, she grabbed his cane away from him with a scared but determined look on her face. Impressive!

"You do realise that you have just earned yourself instant dismissal from this hospital?" House asked speculatively. She turned pale, but did not back off.

"I don't care," she said squaring her shoulders. "My father needs your help and if I have to beat you with this cane, you will listen to what I have to say."

House tilted his head and assessed the slip of a girl confronting him. She had caught his interest. Her problem was probably very mundane and boring, but she might be entertaining enough. Then he remembered her.

"You were present at the lecture I gave, weren't you?" House asked.

"Yes, I was. You said I was useless, but that I at least knew it," she confirmed.

"Fine," House said. "I'm on my way to the clinic. Walk with me. You have till we reach there to convince me that I want to help your father in any way." House reached for his cane. The girl hesitated and House pointed out: "I need it for walking, and I think you can be fairly sure I will not outrun you." She blushed and quickly gave him the cane. "So talk! Though I am slow it will not take very long for us to reach the clinic. So what is wrong with your Father?"

"His leg hurts," she told him.

"Hmm. I presume he did not injure it jogging, or in a collision nor is he pregnant?"

"No, none of those. My Father has been in Princeton General for three days now," she started to explain.

"Princeton General?" House questioned. "Doesn't sound like a problem that could concern me."

"We are not at the clinic yet!" She snapped at him, and he nodded her to go on – hiding a smile. "Anyway, four days ago, my father stumbled at work and hit his thigh. The pain was so bad that he went to the hospital to get an injection for it. It was ok till the next day, when the pain returned and he went back. They took him in to do some tests and while in there he started to pee blood. They ordered bed rest and antibiotics. Later his urine turned tea-coloured. They didn't change the treatment. I do not live at home anymore, so I found out about this only this morning. My Mother didn't want to worry me. I went to see my Father immediately and he told me that he had felt the pain before he had hit his leg, that the pain was the reason why he did fall not the result of it. His doctor did not want to listen. I tried to talk to the doctor myself. I suggested that my Father needs an MRI on his leg. I even pointed out that the colour of the urine could be due to muscle death and since the treatment hadn't worked so far, more tests were needed. The doctor refused and told me that just because I study in PPTH does not mean I'm Dr. House and I should go back to my studies and leave the doctoring to doctors."

"Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" House asked mildly, refusing to let her see that the story had hit a cord.

"Yes, that was his name. You know him?" she asked.

"Yes, I do know him. He is an idiot," House stated.

"From what I have seen of him, I cannot disagree. So you understand why I want to get my Father transferred here?"

"I can see why you want him here, but what makes you think I would take him as my patient?"

"I don't know. I only know that he needs you. The cases you described to us at that lecture, well obviously the third case is why I want you to take him on." She sounded anxious.

"The cases were not all mine, you know. I wasn't the doctor in charge of the golfer." House pointed out.

"That may be, but you agreed with his decision not to amputate."

"That is a rather flimsy reason to want me on the case," House doubted.

"Possibly, but ... I don't know. I don't know why I want you to take my Father's case. I just could not think of anyone else, for some reason you are the only one I want to trust with my Father's life."

"You do understand that if you want to have your father transferred here, Princeton General may object, they may even demand that your father signs a waver to protect them against malpractice suit," House explained.

"My older brother is a lawyer. I called him as soon as I had seen my Father. He is now with Father and will take care of all that," she asserted.

"On the other hand, we too, need wavers signed. We do not want to be held responsible for the mistakes of Princeton General." House added.

"That is understandable and we are prepared for that."

"In that case, you are in luck," House smiled mischievously. "I find the idea of stealing a patient from Dr. Livingston highly appealing. And I'm fairly sure Cuddy will like it too, since Dr. Livingstone has always made it clear he disapproves of women in charge of hospitals. He especially finds Cuddy's cleavage offending to his sensibilities – which in itself shows what a total moron he is."

Just as House accepted the case they arrived at the clinic. Brenda had a pile of files ready for him, but he told her that that could wait.

"I need to see Cuddy first," House told Brenda. "Though that woman over in that corner cannot wait for anyone, she needs to get to the ER immediately."

"Mrs. Burns?" Brenda wondered.

"I have no idea what her name is, but she is having a heart attack." House revealed.

"She came in with indigestion," Brenda stated.

House got a cunning look on his face: "Five patients to Cuddy say that it's as heart attack."

"No patients to Dr. Cuddy for a month says it is not," Brenda returned.

"Excellent," House agreed. Then he turned to the medical student with him: "You ... What was your name?"

"Soo Park," she told him.

"Ok, Soo, go and catch that lady before she keels over in her chair. You can lay her gently on the floor and start CPR," House turned back to Brenda. "Bag, please?" With a patronising smile Brenda handed him a CPR mask with a bag attached to it. Her smile disappeared as just at that moment Mrs. Burns fell into Soo's arms clutching her chest.

In five minutes the cardiac unit had taken over and wheeled Mrs. Burns to the ER.

"So," House smiled at Brenda. "It looks like I'm going to have a lot of fun at the clinic today, once I have spoken with Cuddy."

"It might still be something else than a heart attack," Brenda insisted.

"Fine," House said. "You find out what it was and then tell me when I get back. Come along ... what was your name again?"

"Soo Park," Soo repeated still a little stunned at what had just happened. "How did you know what was wrong with Mrs. Burns?" She had to ask.

"Colour of her skin, the way she was breathing and the way she was sitting," House catalogued. "She was having typical symptoms of a heart attack in a woman of her age. Heart attacks in women are often missed, because the symptoms that are described as typical in text books are based on men having heart attacks. Women are often misdiagnosed as having panic attacks or indigestion. It has only recently occurred to doctors that the very same things that cause infarctions in men can cause them in women as well, and that the symptoms might be different."

"I see," Soo said thoughtfully.

"No you don't," House stated. "But it is possible you will, one of these days. Ok, here's Dr. Cuddy's office and you are going to do the explaining in there, so gather your thoughts."


	24. Ifs and buts

House had been right. Cuddy was more than happy to take over Mr. Park's care from Dr. Livingston. Of course she wanted the i:s dotted and t:s crossed in the paperwork, but since the request for transfer came from the patient and his family, there was really no problem.

"So can we go on the ambulance to get her father?" House asked.

"You don't want to travel in an ambulance," Cuddy frowned. "You don't even want to meet the patients, why would you want to make a special trip to get this one and then travel back with him?"

"I don't really," House admitted. "But I do want to see Dr. Livingstone's face when he has to hand his patient over to me."

"Sorry, House," Cuddy refused. "You have clinic duty. You cannot go."

"You are hiding something from me," House glared at Cuddy. She was up to something.

"No, I'm not hiding anything. There just is no reason for you to go to Princeton General," Cuddy insisted.

"Aha!" House realised what was going on. "You decided to go yourself, didn't you? You want to reserve the pleasure of rubbing Livingstone's nose on the fact that even our medical students are better trained than the doctors at PG."

"Yes, I'm going myself," Cuddy said with dignity. "But I'm not going there to rub anyone's nose in anything. It's just easier for the paperwork."

"Sure, it is," House didn't believe her for a second. "Fine, have the fun. But I want a detailed report!"

"House! You are giving Ms. Park a very strange picture of the running of this hospital and the doctors in it." Cuddy tried to rein him in.

"Oh, she is going to get a very good picture of me in the near future," House dismissed Cuddy's concerns. "Firstly her father is going to be my patient, and secondly she is going to tag along with me for the time being." The latter part of House's announcement caught both Cuddy's and Soo's attention.

"For the time being?" Cuddy wondered. "How long is that?"

"Oh, till I say enough," House was pointedly playing with his cane, though Cuddy couldn't see why. "Isn't that right, Soo?"

"Yes, sir," Soo agreed – though she did swallow nervously.

"What about her studies," Cuddy asked feeling suspicious, though not quite knowing why. House was definitely up to something.

"She can copy from friends if she misses classes for this. Besides, how much do you think she is going to learn anyway while worrying over her Father?" House shrugged. "Why are you so against this? Haven't you been trying for years to get me to take on students for training?"

"Yes, I have tried" Cuddy agreed. "But the operative word in that is _tried_. You have usually resisted it to your utmost ability. So why now?"

"I have this sudden urge to give back," House looked at her with an overly earnest gaze. "I feel I can teach her a lesson or two, show her what is in store for her, give her a taste of what's coming to her. You know, just give her a glimpse of what could be."

Cuddy bit her lip in hesitation. She looked at Soo, who was rather pale, but seemed determined. "Is this what you want? Are you ok with tagging along with Dr. House for a few days?"

"Yes," Soo's answer came swiftly and without the slightest hesitation. "He is accepting my Father as his patient. I am honoured that he is taking interest in me, too."

"Good," House smiled – and Cuddy got even more nervous, but what could she do! – "That is settled then."

"Please, there is one more thing," Soo interrupted before the doctors could close the meeting. "I need to ask something, concerning my Father."

"Sure, what is it?" Cuddy smiled reassuringly.

"If it is muscle death that my Father has, I would like you to tell him about the treatment that might restore his leg entirely." Soo spoke timidly, but again her determination was apparent.

"Four day blockage has in all likelihood caused so much damage that the best option for the patient is amputation," House said neutrally. "With a prosthetic leg he has a good chance to live a normal life. There are kids who run the hundred meter dash in under 12 seconds wearing them."

"Yeah, but they just don't look so pretty," Soo dared to flip back at him. Though again she seemed almost scared to death the moment the words were out of her mouth. "My Father is in some ways a very old fashioned man. Very much of the old school. For him to choose which kind of cripple he will be just in order to escape death or pain is not an option. I'm almost certain that he will refuse to let you operate on his leg at all, if both the options will leave him crippled."

House stared at Soo without a word. Cuddy wanted to say something, but the atmosphere in her office was so thick she was afraid that the slightest sound might end up in an explosion.

"Have you spoken to him about this so called option yet?" House asked Soo.

"No," Soo said immediately. "I'm aware that his problem might not be muscle death. It can be cancer, infection that is resistant to antibiotics or it could even be that it's referred pain from somewhere else entirely. I didn't see any point in speaking to him about treatments before we know what really is wrong with him."

"Good," House nodded. "The treatment you are suggesting is extremely dangerous. Are you familiar with Russian roulette?"

"The one where you take five bullets out of a revolver, leave one, roll the chamber and then shoot yourself?" Soo asked.

"That's the one," House agreed. "This treatment would be like playing Russian roulette with reversed odds with your Father's life. He would have one in six chance of even surviving the treatment at all, and his chances off getting his leg back in fairly good condition after the treatment are even smaller. If he survives, it is true that his leg will probably be in better condition than if we just remove the dead muscle tissue. How much better, we have no way of knowing but we do know that the _if_ in _if he survives_ is very big."

Cuddy was by this time sitting behind her desk in utter silence. She stared at House with wide eyes, and covered her mouth with her hand to make sure not even a sigh escaped. She didn't know how much House was actually revealing about his own operation while talking to Soo, but she knew she wanted to remember every word and she was going to go through every one of them in her mind with a fine-tooth comb to get the last bit of information about House out of them.

"Even so," Soo said. "It is up to my Father to decide what he wants and he needs to know about that possibility."

"Fine," House seemed to make up his mind. "This is what we do – and this is not negotiable, so if I find out that you have talked to your Father about it, I will immediately remove myself from his case and good luck trying to get any other doctor to even listen to you on that subject." Soo nodded but didn't dare speak. House went on: "If we find out that your father has had an infarction that has resulted in muscle death I will present him with the two conventional options and I will strongly recommend amputation. I will not even hint that there are any other treatments in existence. If, and only if, he refuses both treatments, and if I'm convinced that he really does mean it. That he truly would rather die than choose which kind of cripple he will be, then, and only then, will I bring up the third option. If once I have explained to him the dangers in it, he still chooses it we will need wavers from him, from you, your brother, your mother and everyone in your family who could even think of suing us for having done that instead of the safer procedures. If all that comes together I will do it your way."

"Thank you," Soo didn't think it was safe to say anything else, but then she didn't even want to say anything else. She had done what she could for her father, now it was up to him.

"Right then, the clinic calls," House stated. "Since I'm not allowed to have my fun with Dr. Livingston and the other incompetent jerks in Princeton General."

"No you are not," Cuddy confirmed. "It would not be fair, since we have our quota of jerks as well."

"But not incompetent ones," House reminded her.

"Maybe not," Cuddy had to agree. "I would like a word with you alone, though, before I go."

"Ok," House stopped and turned to Soo. "You... hmm... What was your name?"

"Soo Park," Soo had a feeling she was going to get heartily sick of her own name long before House was done with her. She really, really, really ought not to have grabbed his cane.

"Right, Soo," House repeated. "Go and check with Brenda how the heart attack woman, whatever her name was, is doing. Then wait for me in the clinic."

Soo left feeling relieved that she was going to have a moment's respite. House turned to Cuddy.

"So what was it you wanted, mistress?" He asked. "A quickie, I'm afraid, is out of the question. I'm not as fast as I used to be. Old age and all, you know."

"Very funny!" Cuddy huffed. "Are you really going to recommend the removal of the blockage to Mr. Park as a treatment?"

"If it is an infarction and if he really refuses all other treatments, we don't really have a choice." House responded.

"You didn't tell me the odds when you requested the procedure for yourself," Cuddy reminded him.

"You didn't need to know," House said. "You knew there were risks, but that was all you needed to know, as I was the one who suggested the treatment. As the patient I had the right to risk what I wanted. It wasn't as if I didn't know what I was doing."

"Did you tell Stacy?" Cuddy asked.

"No. She didn't need to know," House answered. "Mind you, she did what I was afraid of anyway. I didn't tell her how dangerous it was because I was sure she would find a way to circumvent me. Ironically enough, the little I did tell her, and what you told her, was enough to make her do it anyway. I really should have revoked her medical proxy."

"Soo seems to think her father would rather be dead than a cripple," Cuddy mused. "Was that your reason, too? For refusing amputation?"

"Why do you try and find my reasons now? It's all over and done with," House questioned. "It never was as simple as just a choice between two things. I don't believe it is for Mr. Park, either. And I don't think Soo thinks so either. If I preferred death to being a cripple, I could do something about it. I am a doctor, you know."

"I know, I know," Cuddy sighed. "But I cannot help but wonder what if...What if I hadn't presented that middle ground option to Stacy? What if I had refused to go against your wishes? What if you were right, what if I robbed you of a life without pain?"

"_What if_ is the most useless pair of words in English language," House told her. "I can tell you what would have happened if you hadn't told Stacy about the other option. She would have talked you into amputating. And frankly, after that I would have hated you. The rest of it, who knows. There is no point in dwelling on it. What is, is, and you did what you thought was best. Sure, I'm the one who is living with the consequences, but as I told you once before, your guilt is what makes you a great administrator."

"Thanks, but originally I meant to be a great doctor," Cuddy sounded a little defeated.

"You give others room to be that," House decided to be nice for once. "Besides, you're not that bad a doctor either, when you don't let emotions get in the way."

"Gee, thanks," Cuddy said, but she did feel comforted.

"Was that all?" House asked. "Only I have to go to the clinic and you have to go and get my patient."

"Yes, that was all," Cuddy told him.

House walked out of Cuddy's office to the clinic. Soo was waiting for him at the nurses' station.

"So?" House asked.

"Yes, it was a heart attack," Soo replied. "And Mrs. Burns is in stable condition, and her family has been alerted."

"Hah! I told you it was a heart attack," House gloated. "This is turning to be an excellent day. Five patients to Cuddy and you as an icing on the cake!"

Soo had a feeling she most definitely did not want to be the icing on Dr. House's cake.


	25. Colour purple

_This is still day nine of the story, date is uncertain, but I think we are about a week behind from real time, so I think the date is probably December 18th. House's parents ought to be around for a little over a week still. I may jump a day or two later but I will make a note of it if I do._

_Thank you for the reviews and keep asking questions if I have not explained something to your satisfaction._

_--------_

"Right then, Brenda," House smiled widely at the nurse. "Who is my first victim?"

"You mean patient?" Brenda tried to emphasise in the vain hope of reminding House that he was about to deal with sick people who actually might deserve some compassion and care.

"Patient, victim, _tomahto, tomayto_" House shrugged. "Same difference. Just give the file to ... Soo, yes, that was it, and we'll get started."

"Why her?" Brenda found it quite odd that House was being followed by a medical student. He had to be up to something, and that probably boded ill for the poor student. "Why do you suddenly have a medical student with you?"

"Oh, this is ..." House pretended to forget her name again, and Soo told it to him, again, with resignation – she had been right, she was already wishing she had never been named at all. "Right, Soo Park, she is with me today to get acquainted with the wonderful world of charting."

"You never chart," Brenda pointed out.

"Is that any reason to assume I cannot teach it to somebody else?" House wondered.

"Fine," Brenda said rifling through her pile of files. "If he gets too impossible, come tell me and we'll see what can be done about it," she told Soo.

"I will," Soo reassured Brenda, but she didn't meet Brenda's eyes. House smiled gleefully.

"Oh, I'm sure she will be happy to run to you the moment the big, bad doctor gets too impossible, won't you, Soo?"

Before Soo could say anything though, there was a commotion at the door. Four people, three adults and a child about five years of age, barged in. Or actually two of them barged in; the young lady carrying the child was tagging along with some reluctance.

"We need a doctor immediately," the first woman said. House estimated her to be in her late twenties, probably an accountant very career driven and married to the equally obnoxious young VP of one of Daddy's companies that was standing next to him. House wasn't quite sure if the Daddy was hers or his, probably his. "Our Nanny is abusing our child."

House looked at the Nanny in question with some astonishment. She didn't look the type, and the child certainly was resting his head quite happily against her shoulder as she was carrying him.

"And what makes you think he is abused?" Brenda asked, not sounding very convinced either.

"Look, at that bruise!" The mother – presumably she was the mother – turned towards the child and seeing that the Nanny was hanging back, ordered: "Come closer! See right there, on the chin." The mother pointed at a red mark on the child's chin.

"It's a rash," the Nanny said. "He does need a doctor, but not to confirm abuse but to find out why he has a rash and why he has been vomiting since early this morning."

"You are in no position to tell us anymore what our child needs," the man found his voice and admonished the Nanny. House decided that these two were perfect candidates for his first victims today. So he intervened.

"Enough!" He stated firmly. "Stop yelling, there are sick people in here." He limped over to the child and took a brief look at his chin. "Right, Soo, take this child and sit somewhere with him while we sort out these so called adults. Tell him a story of whatever, but make sure he can still see his Nanny." Soo was a little puzzled, but did as she was told. She took the boy to the seats and sat down with him on her lap. House went after the parents.

"So, you believe your Nanny is abusing your child?" House asked, at the affirmative answers from the parents he went on: "And you are sure you have the right child with you?" The couple looked at him astonished then they quickly looked at the Nanny and then turned back to House with indignation.

"Of course we have the right child with us!" the mother insisted. "Do you really thing we wouldn't know our own child?"

"Well, you are her mother," House started, at which point the Nanny immediately intervened and corrected him: "HIS mother, he is a boy." House nodded in thanks. "As I said you are the mother, but I seriously doubt you could pick up your son in a line up."

"That is so not true!" the mother huffed.

"No? Just now, when I asked if you had the right child with you, you did not look at him. You checked the **Nanny**, trusting that if you have the right Nanny, you must automatically also have the right child. Then when I got the gender wrong, it was the Nanny who immediately and automatically corrected me, not you. I bet you don't even remember half the time if you have a boy or a girl. If only you had named him something gender specific; that might have helped."

"How do you know his name," the Nanny asked intrigued, "I don't remember having seen you before."

"Just guessing," House admitted. "But these two look like the sort of idiots who would name their son something like Sid or Kelsey. Probably not Sid, that sounds a little too plebeian to appeal to them, Kelsey would be my guess."

"Kelsey Harrison," Brenda said, giving him a file. "I remember him from previous visits."

"Show off!" House flipped at her with a devilish glint in his eye.

"Me?" Brenda glared at him. "I have at least seen him before. I'm not the one pulling names out of a hat like rabbits."

"Hello!" Mr. Harrison got impatient at being ignored. "We are the parents, here. Now is Kelsey going to get to a doctor or not?"

"Exam room three?" House asked Brenda, who nodded. "Soo! Room three. You," he pointed his finger at the Nanny, "follow her. You two," again the finger pointed, now at the parents. "Shut up and sit down. I will come back once I've seen your son, and you better be right there or I will be the one who calls child protective services. And I will not be turning in the Nanny but you two; for gross negligence."

"You cannot do that!" Mrs. Harrison sounded horrified. "What would our friends say?"

"I want to see the head of this hospital!" Mr. Harrison demanded. "You cannot speak to me like that."

"Dr. Cuddy is unavailable right now," Nurse Brenda informed them and then went on: "Besides, she has better things to do with her time than to deal with idiots."

The Harrisons looked stunned and House turned to Brenda with admiration: "Brenda! I think you got it! By God, I think you really got it!"

"And you, shut up and go see your patient," Brenda told him blushing slightly.

House smiled, but did as he was told.

Soo, Kelsey and the Nanny were waiting for him in the exam room.

"So, what is really going on with this young man then?" House asked.

"He got the rash a couple of days ago," the Nanny explained. "I didn't think much of it, as nuts give him a rash and as his mother loves them, there are nuts all over the house. It's almost impossible to keep him totally away from them."

"I assume you have informed the mother of this allergy?" House asked with irony.

"Several times!" was the answer. "She just tells me it is my job to see to it that he doesn't eat them.

"And you are not very good at doing as you are told, are you Kelsey?" House turned to the boy. Who nodded and smiled as best he could, though he did seem somewhat miserable.

"Anyway, the rash started a few days ago, and it was mostly on his legs. Now he has a few blotches on his chest and the one on his chin that his mother noticed and the rash on his legs has turned funny, it looks more like bruises than a rash now. He is also feeling pain in his abdomen and in his knees and ankles. The joints started hurting last night and he started vomiting this morning. I was just getting him ready to bring here, when his parents came to see him."

"Ok, let's have a look at the legs, then," House decided. "Would you take off your trousers, Kelsey?" The boy complied with the help of his Nanny.

The legs were indeed black and blue and purple. Soo had never seen anything like it, yet they did seem a little off to be actual bruises.

"Right then, Soo, tell me what it is. It is a text book case," House looked at her expectantly.

Soo swallowed. She had not expected to be put on the spot like this, but then probably she should have expected it. She was here for House's amusement after all. She desperately searched her memory for anything that might fit this case. "So he has pain in his knees and ankles, there is the rash that turns purple, abdominal pain and vomiting. Does he have any other symptoms? Fever?"

"No. He did have a cold a few days ago, but that was over before the rash appeared," the Nanny explained.

"It is still possible that it had something to do with this," Soo mused. Something at the back of her head started to nag at her. "Purple rash, abdominal pain, arthritic pain in joints especially knees and ankles. And the patient if male, five years of age, had a cold..." She bit her lip and concentrated. She could practically feel House drill a hole in her head with his laser-blue eyes. "Henoch-Schönlein Purpura."

"Are you sure?" House asked mildly.

"Yes. You said it is a text book case," Soo faked confidence the best she could. "The age of the patient, gender and symptoms are right from the text book for Henoch-Schönlein Purpura."

"Correct," House admitted. "What is the treatment?"

"There isn't one, so mainly the patient needs bed rest and adequate hydration. The symptoms can be treated with anti-inflammatory drugs or if the abdominal pain is very bad then corticosteroids can be tried. There are some other drugs too which might help, but basically the illness just has to run its course. Normally that takes four to six weeks."

"Is that all?" House prompted.

"Close observation of the patient is also needed as Henoch-Schönlein Purpura can cause kidney problems even to the extent of kidney failure, though that is very rare."

"Would you recommend hospitalization?"

"Normally, no," Soo bit her lip, "but in this case..."

"With no responsible parents?" House guessed. "Yes, I think we better take Kelsey in. Not that I doubt your abilities," House turned to the Nanny, "but there is no saying what those two will do next, so we'll play it safe. Soo, go get the boy admitted. No drugs at this time, but we will monitor him carefully. Once you have admitted Kelsey and charted his file you can go and meet your Father. He ought to be arriving in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Dr. House," Soo said and left with the boy.

"So what brought the sudden parental concern on you? Were they watching _The Hand that Rocks the Cradle_ last night or was there some documentary on about abusive Nannies?" House asked the Nanny.

"I believe it was a documentary latish last night," she answered.

"I see," House sneered. "So after a good night's sleep, a hearty breakfast and possibly an hour or so of morning exercise they decided to descend on you and see if you were abusing their child? And having found their proof, they ask YOU to bring the baby along and you all drive to the nearest free clinic to establish your guilt?"

"That pretty much sums it up." She nodded.

"Tell me, if you know, what on earth made them think they wanted a child?"

"When I first started there, that was the question I asked myself about million times!" She sighed. "Finally I got the answer. It was an accident. She meant to have an abortion, but before she did, her father-in-law found out, and was ecstatically happy. So no help for it, they had to have it."

"I'm presuming it's the Daddy who has the money in the family?"

"Damn straight he has, and he is not letting go of it until he is dead. If even then."

"Does he dote on his grandson?" House asked.

"He is the only one in the family who cares," she said.

"In that case I think you better inform him that his grandson is in the hospital," House suggested.

"I think I will," the Nanny agreed.

"Right, I have other patients, too, so why don't you accompany Kelsey to his room," House said. "You can naturally visit him as often as you want, as you are practically his only real parent."

"Thank you; I will do that, too."

The Nanny left to go with the boy and House followed a moment later to have a word or two with the parents. The words were short, to the point and pithy. The Harrisons left the clinic without trying to see Dr. Cuddy, so House still had his five-patient-pass intact. However, he deemed that a break was in order so he went to the diagnostics department to give Foreman his instructions about Mr. Park.


	26. Tears and silence

_Merry Christmas everyone or Happy whatever Holiday it is you celebrate this time of the year!_

-----------------

Having dispatched Foreman to do the MRI on Soo's father, House went back to the clinic for an hour. He still didn't send any of his patients to Cuddy, but that was ok. He didn't want her mad at him before he had got a blow by blow account of her visit to the Princeton General out of her. Once he left the clinic for the day, he went back to the diagnostics where Foreman was waiting for him with the MRIs and Soo – as instructed.

"So, what have we here?" House put up the images on the light-board and looked at them. Foreman was ready with his analysis but House put up his hand to stop him. "Soo, what do you see in there?"

Foreman was a little startled. House had specifically told him not to discuss the results with Soo, but he had not realised House was still going to quiz the girl. Damn! Had he known that he would have given her some pointers. Not that the images were in any way complicated, but he knew what effect House could have on you, especially when he was breathing down your neck. Though why on earth was he on Soo's case?

Soo hated being put on the spot like this, especially as she could not forget that it was her Father who was under discussion. She was beginning to think she was not paying just for the cane, but something else as well. She wasn't sure yet what it was, but she had a feeling that when she found out, she would have been happier not knowing. But that was for the future. Right now she had to come up with something intelligent to say in front of House. And his fellows, too, true, but somehow the other people in the room just didn't matter, they were mere shadows beside the blue-eyed titan who was focusing on her insignificant self waiting for an answer.

"It's definitely an infarction," Soo said. She went closer and pointed with her finger, "there. And the damage to the muscle tissue is extensive by now." She was swallowing her tears the best she could, she was sure there was no way her father would survive this, unless he agreed to the amputation – and he wouldn't.

"What is the treatment you would recommend?" House asked unrelentingly.

"The safest option for the patient is amputation," Soo stammered out.

"If the patient refuses that, is there another option?" House would not release her.

"To surgically remove the affected tissue," Soo barely got the answer out. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes and starting to roll down her cheeks. She could vaguely here protesting sounds coming from the three other people in the room, but they were peripheral both to her and House. She wasn't sure what the battle between her and the head of diagnostics was about, but she was not backing out. This was her Father's life, the quality of his life his right to decide for himself what he wanted and if she had to make a fool of herself in front of House, humiliate herself or whatever the price was he wanted, she was willing to pay.

"Is there any other options available that any sane doctor would recommend?" House asked.

"No." Soo knew that that was the only honest answer she could give.

"Yet you still want me to present him with a third option? Even though you know it will probably kill him, that it might leave him with brain damage if we don't bring him back soon enough after he flatlines – and he will do that, at least once, - and if it doesn't do either of those things, the odds of him getting his leg back are still minimal at best – to use a stiff-upper-lip British expression." House just went on pressuring her.

"Yes, I still want you to tell him of the third option," by now the tears were falling freely. House ignored them, though Cameron was doing her best to stop him from doing ... whatever it was he was doing. And Foreman and Chase were supporting her efforts, too.

"So you would rather see him dead than crippled? You would make that choice for him?" House asked.

"It is not my choice to make. It's his. I will not make up his mind for him. I will not let my wishes interfere with his quality of life. It is his life; he has the right to know all options available. And I could not look him in the face and know that my silence robbed him of an option that he might have wanted to take, an option that might have restored him to full health. I could not face my mother, if he chose death over being a cripple and I knew that there had been even a slight chance that it didn't need to be." Soo answered vehemently.

"So you are willing to sit by his bed side and watch him die or possibly get brain damage, knowing that overruling his wishes would save his life and mind and give him many years with you and the rest of his family?" House seemed to be totally unaffected by her distress.

"He is my Father. I love him and if that means I have to watch him die, then I will live with it. He knows who and what he is. I do not have the right to overrule the decisions he makes about his own life." Soo was just barely coherent but her determination still shone through.

"Fine then," House nodded like they had just had a pleasant conversation about the weather. "I will go and see your Father, present him with the sane options and we'll see what happens."

House left his office and Soo collapsed into Cameron's arms.

"What the hell is going on with House," Foreman exclaimed. "That was just brutal!"

"Shhh, there, there," Cameron tried to calm Soo down. "He can be really horrid, but he will do his best for your Father, he really will. And his best can be truly impressive."

"I know he will do his best," Soo sniffed. "But the question is not what he will do, but what my Father will choose."

"Yeah, ok," Chase was puzzled over the whole scene and situation. "I can see how that could cause problems, especially if your Father is really against amputation, but I still don't see why House was that way with you. Why insist that you are present at all? And why make you miserable over the possible options? It is your Father's call, not yours. Why behave like this is your responsibility? It's not like you are the one asking for it."

"I did," Soo said quietly.

"You did what?" Cameron asked.

"I asked him to talk about the third option with my Father," Soo elaborated.

"But it will still be your Father's decision," Foreman pointed out. "Not really your responsibility."

"That is not all that this is about," Soo finally admitted, but she refused to explain herself any further, though the others did ask.

-----------

House talked with Mr. Park for over an hour. After that he went to see Cuddy.

"So, tell me what happened at Princeton General," House had barely entered Cuddy's office before he asked the foremost question in his mind.

"What could possibly have happened there?" Cuddy prevaricated. "Mr. Park is not the first patient to be transferred from PG to us. Nothing unusual in all that at all."

"Don't try that, not with me, Cuddy," House refused to drop the subject. "If it had been any other doctor than Livingstone, I would accept that you went there to just oversee the transfer. But we are talking about the fool who misdiagnosed my leg, got sacked because of it – in lieu of huge malpractice settlement to me – and now did the same thing all over again, there is no way you would not have rubbed his nose, his face and his whole damn body on that."

"It is true that I consider Dr. Livingstone to be an incompetent doctor, and I do believe he has no business to be anywhere near patients, that somebody should have given him a desk job or something a long time ago, but that does not mean I would stoop to _rubbing his nose _on anything. I am a Dean of Medicine for crying out loud! I cannot behave like an eight-year-old!"

"Oh, nobody would take you for an eight-year-old. Not with that cleavage," House leered. "Which, by the way, is more prominent now than it was this morning. You changed your shirt before your trip to PG, didn't you? You showed less cleavage when I saw you before, and your blouse was dark green, now you not only show more, you make sure nobody can miss it, because you changed from green to bright red. We both know what Livingstone thinks of your cleavage, idiot that he is, so there is no way you didn't do that on purpose!"

"Fine! I will tell you," Cuddy relented finally. "I didn't do anything overt, really. I behaved like everything was normal, and I was there to just make sure all paperwork was in order and normal courtesies observed – though I naturally made also sure that they did not sift any of their liabilities on us. I just ignored Dr. Livingstone completely. When we went to get Mr. Park, Livingstone was there and he was ready with a tirade about how insulting this was and how I could not just shop for patients from other hospitals. I behaved like he wasn't there at all. I talked to the nurses and other doctors about what treatment Mr. Park had received, I asked about things that Livingstone had just told me, but I pretended I hadn't heard – and still didn't if he was the one talking."

"Ahh! The silent treatment," House gloated. "Low key?"

"Oh yes," Cuddy confirmed. "I didn't give him anything, not even a cold shoulder. I didn't huff like he was beneath my notice; I didn't treat him like he was a pesky insect or anything. I genuinely behaved like he wasn't there. And he turned redder and redder till I was sure he was going to have a stroke! Then when we were leaving and I was saying goodbye to Dr. Meyer, - and Livingstone had followed us still spouting his protests and indignation - I said that it might be a good idea that the hospital made sure all their patients were seen by doctors, not incompetent apes who cannot even diagnose cases that follow the exact same symptoms than cases they have already bungled up once before."

"Way to go, Cuddy," House approved. "What did Livingstone do?"

"He finally got the message and left in a huff. There were a lot of people sniggering behind him, though, so I don't think he can expect a lot of respect from anyone for some time to come," Cuddy smiled. "That is of course assuming he was respected at all even before."

"I doubt it," House agreed. "You did well, for you. I still think he deserved more, but maybe PG will see to it."

"I think they will, it seemed that Dr. Meyer had been unaware that Ms. Park had requested an MRI and been refused," Cuddy told him. "Which reminds me, what did the images show?"

"Infarction. Muscle death. You know, you've seen it before," House informed her mildly.

"So it is the same as before?" Cuddy wanted to be sure. House nodded. "What are the odds that that would happen?"

"Infarctions are not that rare and Livingstone is still practising, so two similar cases in eight years, not that impossible." House mused.

"He really is an incompetent ape – no offence intended for the apes," Cuddy sighed. "How are you ... Do you want someone else to take over? I know you will hate cutting his leg off."

"He has refused that option," House said. "In fact one of the reasons I came to see you, is that you need to go and talk with him. He has categorically refused either of the safe options, as his daughter predicted, and wants the third one. You need to go and see him with the hospital lawyer, make sure he knows all the risks and is releasing the hospital of all responsibility. He also needs to name a medical proxy from his family."

"Medical proxy?" Cuddy wondered. "His wife would automatically have the right to make decisions as his next of kin, why would he need to name one?"

"Talk with him, he will explain." House wouldn't go further into the matter. "Once you have the paperwork done, we will do the procedure immediately, I have the OR booked in two hours. Fortunately he hasn't eaten anything since breakfast – the food in PG is as bad as ours, it seems. Once we are sure that the blockage is removed properly and the process in the muscle has started we will put him in coma. That will probably happen late tonight. He will need constant monitoring, and I don't mean nurses checking on him every five minutes, I mean someone by his bedside every second. My ducklings will help with that, but even they need to sleep sometimes."

"Ok, I'll see to that," Cuddy looked worried. "House, this is striking rather close to home for you, are you...?"

"I'm fine," House gave her blankly. "It was a long time ago. My objectivity is not compromised here."

"If you say so," Cuddy was not completely convinced but she didn't think she was going to get anything more out of him, so she let go.

House nodded to her and then started to leave her office, he stopped at the door: "Oh, and Wilson is putting Andie, too, in coma tonight. In case you want to see her before that."

"Thank you for letting me know," Cuddy said. "I think I will go and see her. Her mother too will need all our support."

"Right," House said, and left.

----------

Soo Park was in the cafeteria with some of her fellow students. She didn't have much of an appetite, but she needed some fuel, so she was having a sandwich and a milkshake – soy-milk.

"So your Father is in hospital with an infarction!" one of her girlfriends said. "No wonder you've been crying."

"It wasn't just that," Soo said, but again did not elaborate.

"And House is his doctor? That's so cool," said the boy at the table. He too had been at _The Lecture_ as the one lecture Dr. House had given was known among the students.

"Yes, he agreed to take the case," Soo confirmed.

"You met him?" the others asked. "What is he like? Is he ... you know, are the rumours true about him?"

Before Soo could answer, the noise in the cafeteria was cut by a piercing whistle. Everybody looked up and Soo saw Dr. House at the cafeteria door. He was looking at her and once he saw she had seen him he jerked his head and turned to go, sure that she would follow.

"Sorry guys, I have to run," Soo was on her feet and running before the others even realized what had happened. She could hear their questions follow her, but she didn't have time to turn and give them any answers – not that she really had any. She caught up with House just as he was about to turn a corner.

"What took you so long?" House asked.

"The cafeteria was crowded and as I don't have a cane people don't make room for me that easily," Soo mentally cursed her tongue; again it was running away with her before her sounder judgement could prevail.

"Was that a cripple-joke?" House pierced her with his eyes.

"No sir," Soo denied immediately.

"Too bad," House shrugged. "You might need to practise them as you probably will have one in the family soon enough – unless, of course your Father ends up as a vegetable."

Soo didn't think it was safe to respond to that at all. After a moment she gathered her courage to ask: "Where are we going, sir?"

"To see your Father," House told her. "He wants to talk with you."


	27. Goodbye, Andie

Soo followed House into her Father's room. Her mother and brother were there, too but Mr. Park asked them to leave him alone with Soo for a moment. House stayed.

"Dr. House tells me that you understand the procedure I am about to undergo," Mr. Park said.

"Yes, I understand it, Father," Soo agreed. "Are you sure this is the one you want? Amputation is much safer and after therapy you ought to be able to live your life practically normally."

"I know. Not only did Dr. House strongly recommend it but so did Dr. Cuddy. They really have thoroughly explained this to me, including the risk of brain damage. I'm sorry Soo. I cannot let them cut my leg off. I just cannot. And the other safe option is no better. It's not that I want to die, I will do my very best not to do that, but I'm not afraid of death either. Forgive me, Soo, but this is my choice."

"Well, it is your leg, so I guess that's it then. How did Mother take your decision?" Soo sighed with resignation.

"Not very well. She would much rather have me agree to an amputation, but we have been married for thirty years, she knows me by now. She has accepted that this is my decision. If the worst happens your brother will look after her," Mr. Park told her. "The reason I wanted to see you alone, is because I need to ask something of you, Soo. And it is not going to be easy."

"Anything," Soo responded immediately. "You know that I will do anything I can for you."

"I know, but this is something harder than doing your best at school, not taking drugs or any of the normal things parents ask of their children. I need you to be my medical proxy. I need you to be the one who makes the decisions when I'm in coma." Mr. Park was looking gravely at his daughter.

"I don't understand? Wouldn't mother automatically be in position to make those decisions?" Soo was puzzled. "She knows what you want as does Dr. House. They would not do anything you didn't want."

"Dr. House had an infarction that resulted in muscle death in his leg," Mr. Park revealed. Soo's head snapped up and she looked at House who was leaning on the near wall looking down. He didn't meet Soo's startled eyes. Soo realised for the first time that the golfer had been House himself. Now that she knew she couldn't believe that it had taken so long – but who would have expected him to present his own case to the students? Especially the way he did it! All these thoughts went through Soo's mind in a second, so her father did not notice anything but just went on with his request. "When he flatlined after his surgery, it proved to be too much for his family. His Lady could not watch him die, so she used her position to overrule his decision. In Dr. House's experience – with other cases as well, once the possibility of death becomes real and concrete to the family, they often want to change for a safer option. I don't want to wake up and find out that my wishes have been overruled and I have been made into a cripple. I know that I may end up as one even after this treatment, but I want to fight to the end against it. Also, I need someone who will decide when it is time not to resuscitate me anymore."

"Father!" Soo was appalled, the idea that she would be in charge of her father's treatment was startling enough, but to literally choose between life and death for him, was almost too much to contemplate.

"I don't really expect you to make the decision, Dr. House will do that. I trust him completely. But you need to be the one who formally accepts his recommendation. I know this will be hard for you. It is even possible that you will have to hold your own against both your Mother and brother."

"But they know what you want, and they cannot make Dr. House do something against your will," Soo didn't know what to do.

"They can request for a different doctor," House inserted from the sidelines. "And I'm pretty sure any other doctor in this hospital would be only too happy to do either one of the safer operations."

"Please, Soo," Mr. Park asked. "Will you do this for me? Or at least try? If in the course of this all you find that you cannot go against your Mother and brother, if it comes to that, I will understand. I will not blame you."

"If this is what you want, I will do everything I can to help," Soo agreed.

House limped to the door and gestured Cuddy and the hospital lawyer to join them. The papers were drawn and signed. The deed was done. Once they left Mr. Park's room House told Soo to follow him again. When they were out of earshot from her family House said.

"Now we will see if you are just words and hot air, or if you can stand by your convictions." House sounded flippant, but there was a very serious undertone to his words. "And if you fail, don't think for even a moment he won't blame you, because he will. For the longest of times he will. But probably not even half as much as you will blame yourself. Every time you hear the thump of his cane, every time you hear the rattle of his pills, you will blame yourself. When you see his marriage deteriorate in front of your eyes, when you see your mother cry at his cruelty and when you see him isolate himself more and more from all he used to hold dear, you will blame yourself. And the fun part is, even if you don't fail, if you fulfil his wish, you will probably still blame yourself unless he gains the full use of his leg."

Suddenly Soo understood that the hell House had put her through in his office had been part of a test. He had all along tried to find out if she could act as medical proxy for her Father. Of course, part of it all – and part of what was going to happen, because she was sure House was not through with her yet – was the fact that she had forced him to take a case so closely resembling his own. And then there was the fact that she had touched his cane! She better not forget that.

------

Soo was stuck with House for the rest of the day. He did give her a few breaks to talk with her mother and brother – though not telling them about the medical proxy deal – and to visit with her father before the surgery. She knew the main reason she got these breaks was because House himself visited with his parents and didn't want her to tag along for that. But other than that, she was on House like red on rice, as he had expressed it - to Soo's puzzlement as rice is not red. She deemed it best not to question it, though. Her mouth had got her into enough trouble as it was.

Most of the time was spent charting. He told her to get all his unfinished patient files from Brenda and bring them to his office where she read the files out loud; House did his best to remember the patient, the diagnosis and the possible prescription. When told to get the files, Soo had mistakenly thought it would be a fairly easy task, but she hadn't realised that House obviously hated charting, and therefore was behind with it well over a month! She was sure she would not survive this task. However it turned out that House had made some vague notes on each file and he amazed her by actually remembering each case – though he kept pointing out that each one of them had been either ridiculously simple or mind bogglingly boring. Or both. But they were all real patients to her and she found that she liked charting, reading what had been the reasons for previous visits and noting down what was wrong this time. She got so absorbed that she forgot her own worries and was quite startled when House told her it was time to go and see her Father's operation.

"You mean I can observe the actual procedure?" Soo asked.

"You are a medical student; there is no reason why I cannot take you with me." House said.

"But this is my Father," Soo was a bit uncertain about the whole thing. She had always got the impression that surgeons preferred not to have family members observing.

"Are you going to faint, scream, throw a fit or behave in any other unseemly way?" House asked her.

"No! Of course not," Soo denied. "And I would very much like to see the operation if it's ok."

"It is," House confirmed. "Come along. Though I have to warn you there really is not that much to see. The drama will come after the procedure and that will be much harder to watch."

--------------

House had been right, the surgery was very mundane. Hardly any blood, a small incision on the thigh was all that was needed. Most of the procedure would have been out of sight if not for the monitors that showed the inside picture of what was going on. Nevertheless, Soo was sitting on pins and needles. She knew enough to know that things could go wrong even with the simplest of surgeries. Nothing did go wrong, though, so in no time Mr. Park was wheeled to recovery and House allowed her to go and sit by him with the rest of her family till he woke up.

----------

Once Soo's Father was awake, House checked that all was proceeding as expected and that Mr. Park was still adamant about refusing amputation or removal of the dead muscle tissue. He left Foreman in charge for the time being and took Soo with him to finish the charting. Once that was done, it was fairly late and it was time for Andie to be put into coma. House told Soo to take the files back to Brenda and then wait for him outside Andie's room.

When House got to Andie, Wilson was already there. He was holding Andie's hand – her mother was holding the other one – and he was saying his goodbyes. House stood by the door, not wanting to interrupt.

"It really has been great knowing you, Andie," Wilson said. "I'm sorry I didn't find a cure for you."

"That's ok," Andie responded. "You did your best."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Wilson asked. "Any questions, anything."

"I'm ok," Andie said. "I've had time to deal with this, and I have asked a lot of questions already. I'm right out of them by now. I'm ok."

"Good then," Wilson tried to remove his hand from Andie's, but she didn't let go. "Was there something still?"

"No, not really," Andie responded.

"You need to let go of my hand so that I can give you the drugs," Wilson pointed out.

"No she doesn't," House intervened. "I can give her the drugs. I think she needs you to hold her hand during this more than anything else."

"Hi, Dr. House," Andie smiled. "I'm glad you are here. I was hoping you'd come."

House came over and gave Andie a small kiss on her forehead: "I think that we can drop the formalities by now. You can call me Greg," House told her.

Andie chuckled a little but dutifully called him "Greg."

"So, do you want me to give you the drugs?" House asked her.

"Yes, please," Andie said. "Dr. Jimmy was there when all this begun, I'd like him to be with me to the last, too."

"I will be," Wilson said. "I will be. If you want to hold my hand, I'm right here."

"Thank you. Thank you for having been there for me through all this," Andie smiled at Wilson. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Wilson said.

"Mum, don't cry too much. I'll be fine," Andie turned to her mother. "I want you to be happy, for me and for yourself."

"I'll try," Andie's mother said. "But it will be hard because I'll miss you so much."

"I'll always be with you," Andie reassured her. "Always. I love you, Mum."

"I love you, too, honey."

"Ready, Andie?" House asked.

"Yes. And thank you Greg, for everything."

"Happy to have been of service," House said. "Goodbye and bon voyage."

Andie smiled at him and turned to Wilson "Goodbye Dr. Jimmy" and then to her mother: "Goodbye mother, we will see again."

"Goodbye Andie," both her mother and Wilson replied. House had pushed the drugs into her system and she closed her eyes and drifted into a coma. House touched her cheek briefly and then walked out of the room leaving Wilson and Andie's mother alone with Andie.

Outside the door Soo Park was waiting for him. She looked at him gravely like she was assessing him in her mind, but she didn't say anything.

"Right then," House said. "Your Father is next. Only hopefully his coma won't end in death." House expected Soo to give him a disapproving look, but there was no change in her expression. Darn, she wasn't learning to read him was she?


	28. Walk the walk, talk the talk

House got up at his usual time of 9:19. He wasn't well rested and his leg hurt. Not as bad as some mornings, but quite bad enough. Part of it was stress, he knew. Sure he played the detached doctor to the hilt, and most of the time it was also true, but now it was just an act. And on two fronts, too. As if Andie's situation wasn't enough now there was also the _Ghost of Christmas past_ to deal with.

He didn't have much of a problem with Andie. He had known that she was going to die from the beginning. He had had no unrealistic hopes of sudden advances in cancer research that might give her more time and possibly even eventually a cure. Wilson was the optimist – which was a very strange quality in an oncologist. But though he was prepared for the end, House was surprised how much it still affected him. He had expected to feel sadness or melancholy when Andie was put in to the final coma, but he actually felt grief. He felt he had lost a friend. And yet it wasn't a sad thing in a sense, because Andie had had time to prepare for the end and the alternative would have been just more pain and suffering, both of which she had had enough already. Wilson had told him that the cancer had advanced to the extent that he didn't expect Andie to last another day. She would, in all likelihood, be dead by the end of the day. No help for it, but he would miss the little, bald circus freak.

It wasn't Andie though who had kept House awake, but Mr. Park. He had told Cuddy that his objectivity was intact, but he knew it wasn't. Watching someone else go through what he had been through, reliving each and every step of the way again was not only playing havoc with his objectivity it was also playing havoc with his leg. He didn't think that he was letting all that actually affect his job as Mr. Park's doctor – in fact he was making damn sure it wasn't. He had strongly advocated for an amputation – it was just a damn leg, after all. He had even made sure that Cuddy went to see the patient and repeated it all. He had decided not to put Mr. Park in coma right away just to have one last chance to make sure he was willing to risk his life and mind for a small chance of getting his leg back as a whole.

The night before, when he had given the drugs to Mr. Park, he had asked for the last time, if this was it.

"What did you do in my place?" Mr. Park had asked.

"I wasn't in your place; I didn't have family like you do. So just because I'm a stubborn jackass does not mean you have to be one," House had said.

"True. I don't see myself as a jackass. My wife tells me I'm more of a brick wall, just won't listen to her or anyone once I've made up my mind. But the stubborn part, that is the same. I know it's just a damn leg, but it's my damn leg and I cannot just let you lop it off. So, yes, I'm sure this is it."

So there had been no rest for the wicked. House had been going through it all in his mind, what had happened to him, what had he learned from it to help with this case, what things needed to be done for Mr. Park, were the instructions he had given to the nurses and his ducklings right, did they cover everything, was there something he had forgotten. And also he was questioning himself. Did he want this treatment to work? Would being proven right be enough, or would he resent the fact that he had been right and Stacy and Cuddy had robbed him of a life free of pain. Or did he want the treatment to fail, because then he could forgive – maybe – or because he resented the idea of someone else getting better, when he hadn't. No, he didn't think it was the latter. Nobody deserved to live with this kind of pain. But there was the idea of being able to – maybe – forgive. Though forgiveness, as Sister Augustine sometimes reminded him, ought not to be conditional. Stacy and Cuddy had done what they thought was for the best, they probably even had the best of intentions. And he had actually forgiven them, sort of. Only once in a while, when the pain was bad and he really wished he were dead, did the resentment come back. But time had dulled even that. In fact it was possible that he actually had forgiven them. But this case just brought all the old feelings, fears and hopes to the fore like never before.

Never mind, he had to stop brooding and get to work. There might even be a new case waiting for him – though that he doubted. At least he had his ducklings to torment, as well as Soo and he had a quota of five patients to insult bad enough to send them to torment Cuddy in turn. It might not be such a bad day in store for him. His parents, too, were leaving the hospital, so he didn't need to worry about running into his Dad in every corner. Yeah, it might not end up being such a very bad day.

---------

House had considered leaving his bike home and taking the bus, but after his morning Vicodin he felt well enough to ride. It was quicker anyway. He parked his bike in its usual handicap space and started limping towards the front door. He hadn't got very far when he heard his Father's voice from behind him. John House had obviously been out walking.

"You are still parking in handicap spaces, then," John said disapprovingly.

"Yeah," House admitted. "The funny thing about them is that they are meant for people with a handicap! Imagine that."

"You have two legs," John insisted. "It's not like you're in a wheelchair or something. Those spaces are meant for people who really need them."

"No kidding," House growled trying to walk faster, only the pain in his leg wouldn't let him. He looked ahead trying to asses how far the door still was when he saw a group of medical students approach it, too. Soo was one of them. House put two fingers into his mouth and whistled. Soo's head snapped up and she saw him. He jerked his head again to indicate that he wanted her and saw her say something short to her friends and then hurry over.

"Who is that?" John asked puzzled.

"My current slave," House said shortly. As Soo got to him he gave her his bag: "Right... "House paused and looked at Soo expectantly, she told him her name – again. "Soo, that was it. Soo, take my stuff to the diagnostics department and then come over to your father's room. Just wait for me there if I haven't made it yet."

"Very well, Dr. House," Soo said and left with his bag.

"You are making that slip of a girl carry your bag?" John seemed ready to do battle over that at least since nothing else had got much of a reaction out of his son.

"She's a rookie," House pointed out impatiently. "What else are they good for than to fetch and carry?" By that time they had mercifully reached the inside of the hospital and Blythe House was in the lobby waiting for her husband – not by accident. She knew her son came to work about this time and there was a chance that father and son would meet. As indeed they had.

"Hello, Greg," Blythe came over and kissed her son. "I heard Andie was put to her final coma last night."

"Yes, she was," House answered ready to chance the subject to anything. "Wilson is taking it pretty hard so if you see him, try to give him some support."

"I will," Blythe promised. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," House dismissed. "So, are you ready to blow this joint then?"

"Pretty much," Blythe agreed to change the topic. "I still need to see Eric one more time and check that I have the schedule for my follow up meeting with him and with my therapist and all that. We will probably be out of here in an hour."

"Ok, I try to come and see you off, but I'm not sure if I can make it," House told her. "I have a case."

"That's ok," Blythe assured him. "It's not like we are leaving town yet. Will you come over later? Tonight perhaps?"

"I think not," House declined. "Andy will probably die today and I don't know how hard that will hit Jimmy. Also my case is a bit tricky, anything can happen there. I'll know more tomorrow."

"Fine, I'll probably see you tomorrow then," Blythe said and then she took her husband away. House made his slow way to the elevators. He was going to check on Andie first – Wilson was probably there with her – and then go on to Mr. Park.

------------------

Soo took House's bag to his office and then went to see her father. Dr. Cameron was watching over him. Soo greeted her briefly but didn't initiate a conversation. She sat by her father and took his hand in her own. He seemed to be resting peacefully.

Soo thought back to the night before. After she had watched House put her father in coma House had sent her away. He told her that nothing much was likely to happen during the first night so she ought to get her rest when she could. She had gone to her rooms with every intention to rest but her room mate was waiting for her, with a couple of her other friends. They had heard about the incident at the cafeteria and wanted the whole story. There was no way Soo was going to tell anyone that! But she had to say something.

She ended up telling them that she had asked his help for her father because she didn't think they were treating him right in Princeton General. She did not tell that it was an infarction, nor what treatment her father had chosen. What she did tell was that in sort of an exchange he had told her to fetch and carry for him for a few days.

"Well, I wouldn't mind fetching and carrying for him," one of the girls said. "I mean you get to see him work! Just imagine the sort of cases he solves."

"He doesn't currently have any cases," Soo pointed out. "That is apart from my Father, and his case I would get to follow anyway."

"But you can ask him about the ones he has solved before," another friend gushed. "That is so cool!"

"No, I cannot do that. You don't speak to House unless he wants you to speak to him," Soo revealed. "The only old cases we have been going through are the ones he has seen to at the clinic."

"What do you mean?"

"He apparently hates charting, so he has me going through all the files of his clinic patients for the last month or two and fill in the things he has failed to note in them." Soo told her friends.

"How does that work?"

"I read out the file, he tells me what he remembers of the visit and based on that I try to make intelligible notes on the files," Soo sighed. "The cases are mostly colds, cuts, bruises, occasional infection and a few hypochondriacs. Nothing to get exited over."

She had managed to downplay her whole "internship" enough to lull any obvious envy in her friends. Sure House had a reputation for being a cranky, sarcastic devil, so in that sense it was not difficult to get sympathy from her friends. But House was also a legend of titanic proportions, so it was not possible to completely avoid being envied for the chance of being close to "The Man". But she had managed to satisfy them enough to make them leave. With the obvious exception of her room mate, of course.

Once the rest of the gang had gone, she still had to endure a third degree from Nellie, who wouldn't believe that there wasn't more going on.

"Come on, Soo! You can tell me the whole story," she begged. "No way are you just fetching and carrying for Dr. House. What is the deal?"

"That is the deal, nothing else," Soo insisted. "What else could there be."

"Come on, you are not telling me that you just walked up to him and convinced him to take over your Father's care? Unless he has something truly bizarre wrong with him, I cannot see that happening," Nellie said. "So there must be something else going on."

"You are not suggesting..." Soo was disgusted. Sure Nellie tended to have sex in her mind 24/7 but this was too much. "He is old enough to be my father! Don't be disgusting."

"I don't think it would be disgusting," Nellie defended herself. "I think he is hotter than hell! So why not?"

"First of all, I'm not like you. I can live without assessing every male I see as a possible bed partner," Soo listed. "Secondly, if I made the mistake of trying to proposition Dr. House, he would throw me out of his office so fast I would not know what hit me. And I would be very lucky if he didn't throw me out through the balcony door – and over the side! Really, Nellie!"

"Come on, he is a man," Nellie tried. "They go for anything."

"Oh, thanks a lot!" Soo could not help herself; she had to laugh at her friend. Nellie was just being Nellie. And apart from her obsession with sex she was a good friend.

"I didn't mean it like that, just that to him it would not matter that you are young enough to be his daughter," Nellie defended her opinion.

"Somehow I think it would," Soo pondered. "There just is something about him that makes you think that he might flirt with anyone or any age, but if he goes further than that, he wants maturity. At least I think so; I haven't really studied him with that in mind."

"So no juicy details to give to me?" Nellie sounded truly disappointed.

"None at all. Sorry." Soo assured her.


	29. The sufferings of mortality

_In this chapter House reveals yet another language he can speak. I do not know if it really is in House's repertoire but it just felt cool. We know he speaks Spanish, Mandarin and Hindi at least. He may speak Japanese as he has lived there, so I just decided he knew this language, too. This is my story, after all, and I may do as I choose, right? _

_--------------_

House didn't stay long with Andie. He exchanged a few words with Wilson to check how things were going and asked if he wanted Cameron to help – either with Andie or her mother. Wilson accepted the offer; another one of his patients had just been checked in and Wilson needed to be there for him.

House limped cautiously into Mr. Park's room. At the door he stopped to take another Vicodin. He looked inside and saw Soo sitting near her father, holding his hand. Cameron was hovering about but not trying to strike up any conversation with Soo, who was obviously deep in thought. House walked in letting his cane thump audibly on the floor. Both women looked up to see him enter.

"Cameron, I'm taking over for now," House said. "Wilson needs your help with Andie; or more precisely with her mother. When is Chase due?"

"In an hour," Cameron answered. "Is Dr. Wilson in Andie's room still or do I go to his office for instructions?"

"He is with Andie still," House said. "Anything unexpected here?"

"No," Cameron answered. "Everything is going pretty much exactly as you predicted."

"Ok, you can go then," House said and Cameron left the room. "So, Soo, what can you tell me about your father's condition?"

Soo was startled all over again. She didn't know why. Sure it had been just one day so far, but surely she had figured out already that House was going to put her to every spot he could. She took her father's chart, checked the monitors and gave it her best shot. It wasn't good enough. House went through every reading, every notation every little detail with her, explaining what she should have seen from them, how she should have read them, what she should have concluded and what she should have predicted. It would have looked like a tirade for someone listening in, but Soo saw is as a detailed explanation of her father's progress. She was grateful for it, though she did have the sense not to thank House.

Just as House had finished his lecture, Soo's mother and brother came in as well. House stepped aside to let Soo talk with her family. He checked Mr. Park's readings and potassium level while Soo was explaining things to her family. He didn't like the readings. He pressed the call button and told Soo to take her family outside. He gave Mr. Park an injection of calcium gluconate but it didn't work fast enough; Mr. Park went into cardiac arrest. The cardiac team arrived almost at the same time.

It took them about five minutes to stabilise Mr. Park. Since House had seen the cardiac arrest coming the heart hadn't actually stopped for more than fifteen seconds before they had got it beating again, but it took a little longer to get the beating steady. But they rescued the patient and there was no risk of brain damage. At least not this time.

----------

"That is it. We tried it his way, I am not watching him kill himself," Mrs. Park stood in front of House and practically ranted. "I want you to either amputate his leg or do the other surgery. I don't care which, you can decide, but I am not watching my husband die just because he is too stubborn to do the sensible thing."

"I'm afraid I cannot do that Mrs. Park. Your husband was very clear about his wishes," House told her.

"I don't care. He wasn't in his right mind. He is in no position to decide now, as his wife I demand that you stop this nonsense and save his life," Mrs. Park insisted.

"No. I'm afraid I can't," House said.

"Then I'm afraid we must ask for a different doctor," Soo's brother told House. "If you will not do it, I'm sure there is another doctor in this hospital who will."

"I'm sure there are several doctors in this hospital who would be only too happy to cut off his leg," House agreed. "However, you do not have the power to replace me. Not without a court order. Your father made sure of that."

"What do you mean? We are his family; my mother is his next of kin. There is nothing you can do to change that," Kwan Park asked.

"I mean that your Father figured that as soon as he had his first cardiac arrest, his family would want to choose a safer treatment than the one he wanted. Therefore he appointed a medical proxy for himself. You do not have the right to decide what happens to him, unless you go to court and have that proxy revoked. And I don't think you can," House explained.

"He cannot have made you responsible for his care," Kwan insisted. "That would be unethical. You cannot both act as his medical proxy and his doctor!"

"Absolutely true, which is why I am not his medical proxy," House agreed.

"Then who is?" Mrs. Park demanded to know.

"I am, mother," Soo revealed.

"Oh, that's ok then," Kwan said. "Now just tell Dr. House that he is no longer needed and we can ask Dr. Cuddy to appoint a new doctor to Father."

"I'm sorry Kwan, I cannot do that," Soo said. "The reason Father asked me to be his proxy was precisely to make sure that Dr. House would not be replaced. He knew the risks of this treatment he chose, I made sure of that, as did Dr. House. He wanted this and I am not going against his wishes."

"But this is killing him!" Mrs. Park cried.

"Maybe. I hope not," Soo said. "But it is his choice. I cannot, I will not overrule him. He was of sound mind when he chose this; I have to respect his choice."

"You are an unnatural daughter! Do you want your Father to die," Mrs. Park accused her.

"If you say so, Mother," Soo bowed her head. "But I have to do what he wanted me to do. I'm sorry Mother."

"Well, that seems clear," House called a halt to the conversation. "If you want to overrule your daughter you have to go to court. Your chances of success are slim, since we made pretty sure of that, but you can try." House then turned his back to Mrs. Park and Kwan. "Come on Soo, I have other things to do with my time now that Chase has got his butt here." He limped off and Soo followed him.

"You do know that they will come after you?" House asked Soo.

"Yes, I know," Soo agreed. "Why didn't you just let them have their say now?"

"They had their say," House pointed out. "But there was no point in letting them vent their fear and frustration on you right now, when you are in similar emotional turmoil. They might actually have badgered you into agreeing with them. It's better if you have time to calm down, gather your thoughts and be ready for their arguments when they come. It may take as long as four days before we can bring your Father out of the coma and your mother and brother will be on your case most of that time – if they can find you, that is. Though I expect their next move is to go to Cuddy."

"Why are you protecting me from then?" Soo asked puzzled as they made their way to House's office.

"I'm not protecting you," House denied. "I'm making sure I stay on as your Father's doctor." House gave Soo a mock earnest look: "I'm quite curious about this treatment your Father chose. It would be such a shame if we didn't find out if it actually works." Then he turned her back to her and walked on, expecting her to follow at his pace.

Soo looked at House with a lot of questions in her mind. She didn't dare voice them, but they almost literally burned her tongue: if this worked, would he resent her Father for having been cured, when his doctor had robbed him of a chance to be whole? Or was he making sure her Father had this chance to make a point? Was he rubbing his own doctor's nose in this? And for some reason the biggest questions, the ones she hardly dared even to think in fear House might read her mind was: how painful was this for him to watch, to do? What did this do to him, to go through this again only now as the doctor not as the patient? How did he feel about giving a chance he himself had been denied to someone else?

In High school Soo had liked to read poetry. She especially liked Byron because he was dark and brooding, just the thing for teenage girls. Now, from somewhere in her memory she suddenly remembered a bit from Byron's Prometheus: _Titan! to whose immortal eyes / The sufferings of mortality/ Seen in their sad reality/ Were not as things that gods despise; / What was thy pity's recompense/ A silent suffering, and intense; / The rock, the vulture, and the chain/ All that the proud can feel of pain/ The agony they do not show/ The suffocating sense of woe/ Which speaks but in its loneliness_ / _And then is jealous lest the sky / Should have a listener, nor will sigh / Until its voice is echoless._ ... Soo shook her head. That thought she better dislodge immediately, because if House did read minds – as it sometimes seemed – seeing her attach that maudlin piece of poetry to him would quite likely make him send her to bedpan duty or something.

They had reached House's office and as Soo followed House inside she saw that there was someone waiting for House in there. The man looked distinguished, wealthy and powerful. He was probably just shy of sixty, but it was difficult to say for sure, though his hair was very liberally sprinkled with grey. He turned to watch House as they entered and measured him with his gaze. Obviously he did not find House wanting as he stepped forward extending his hand.

"Harrison," was all he said. House took the hand, though everybody knew his aversion to hand shaking. Some actually speculated that that was the main reason why he held the cane in his right hand instead of the recommended left one.

"House," was all House said, too. There was some kind of assessment going between them and Soo started to feel like she was very much in the wrong place; this was a meeting of alpha-males if ever she saw one. She sure hoped there was going to be no battle.

"I was told that you admitted my grandson," Harrison said.

"The boy with the Henoch-Schönlein purpura," House acknowledged.

"His Nanny called me; said you had recommended it," Harrison kept his sentences laconic.

"She seemed to think you were the only responsible member of the boy's family," House could piss with the best of them.

"What happened to your leg," Harrison asked suddenly.

"Tangled with a lawyer," House responded. "You know how they are, if you're not careful they charge an arm and a leg."

"And you weren't?"

"Not quite careful enough," House agreed. "Not that time."

"I'm a lawyer," Harrison revealed.

"You have the look," House stated. "Now, have we danced enough for you to get to the point of this visit? I don't really mind, but with this leg – you know, the more complicated steps are out of the question."

"I don't think your leg is much of a hindrance to you in this dance," Harrison told him, but nodded. "I want to talk about my grandson."

"I haven't seen him but that once, so I might not be the man you want," House pointed out.

"But as you also met his parents, I think you are the man I want," Harrison said. He then looked a Soo. "Who is she?" He asked mildly.

"My mail-order bride," House flipped. "I disguised her as a medical student so nobody would question why she is at my beck and call all day."

"I'd like to talk to you alone," Harrison requested – though it did come out almost as an order. House pondered the _request_ for a moment, but decided then to comply.

House took some money out of his pocket gave it to Soo and told her to get him a Reuben, dry no pickles from the cafeteria. Only he did it in Korean. Soo took the money and promised to do as ordered and left the office before it registered on her that they had spoken in Korean. Her family spoke the language at home, between themselves though they all had been born in America and were completely fluent in English. How had House known? And where had he learned Korean!

"So, what was it you wanted to talk about," House asked Harrison indicating him to a chair in front of his desk and moving to his chair on the other side.

"What is his condition? How serious is this purpura he has?" Harrison took the offered seat. He dropped his guise of a high powered; this was just a grandfather speaking now.

"Henoch-Schönlein purpura is a rare condition but normally it is not serious. I would not have hospitalized Kelsey had I been able to be sure he would get responsible care at home. The illness needs to be monitored carefully as it can, in some rare cases, cause renal failure or kidney problems. Usually, though, it just runs its course without any real problems. His Nanny seemed sensible enough, but his parents did not impress me." House explained.

"So if I can assure you that he will get proper care at home, you have no problem in my removing Kelsey from the hospital?" Harrison asked.

"None whatsoever," House agreed.

"Good," Harrison sighed. "I failed my son. I wasn't much of a father to him, so how could he be a father to his son. I married his mother for looks and pedigree, for what her family could do to my career; and of course I wanted to have a son. Didn't hang around much after that. She did her best, I cannot fault her for that, but she was more a good-time parent; when he was good, she was happy to be with him, when he was bad or ill or anything, it was up to the Nanny. And of course, there was nobody to really provide a male role model. I was too wrapped up in my career and my businesses. I may have woken up to my responsibilities too late for my son, but I will do right by my grandson."

"I don't really do family counselling," House grimaced.

"No, I don't suppose you do, sorry," Harrison acknowledged. "However, I'm taking Kelsey in to live with me – with his parents, of course. I will try to mend fences with my son as well, but I don't know how that will go. Anyway, I'm taking my grandson home and I will make sure he will have good care."

"I assume you are not replacing his Nanny," House asked curiously.

"No. She seems to be a sensible girl and she has been with Kelsey almost all his life. Probably more of a mother to him than his real mother is," Harrison told House.

"Ok, I see no problems then," House agreed. "You will be given all the necessary instructions for Kelsey's care and if there are any problems just bring him right back."

"Thank you, House," Harrison stood up and left to take over his grandson.


	30. Knock, knock who’s there?

Soo came back with his Reuben soon after Harrison had left. House sent her back to the cafeteria for her own lunch with Dr. Foreman, who was told to look out for her family in case they were looking for Soo. His job was mostly to give her moral support if needed.

House was reading a medical journal when Cuddy walked into his office.

"Mrs. Park and her son came to see me," Cuddy told him.

"I rather expected they would," House said. "What did they have to say? Did they accuse me of having too much influence on Soo?"

"How did you know?" Cuddy asked.

"Seemed like a reasonable tack for them to take. A young medical student, an older, distinguished head of a department who could possibly influence her studies and career, or an authority figure who might well take advantage of a young girl in order to prove a pet theory or something like that," House explained. "The question however is did you buy their version?"

"Not really," Cuddy said. "At least not entirely; you would not try to influence Soo with any promises of brighter future if she does what you want. But you are an authority figure. You are practically a legend in your field. It is possible that your reputation has influenced her to put her trust in you, even if her mind tells her that this is too dangerous. And it is possible that you have other motives than looking after the best interest of your patient encouraging you to try this treatment."

"You think that my main point in this is to prove that you and Stacy were wrong?" House asked.

"It is possible. Or you could be doing this just to find out if it can be done, to prove that you were right, not so much that we were wrong," Cuddy offered. "Of course the problem is that you could be wrong, in which case Mr. Park will probably end up dead."

"There is one flaw in that thinking, though," House mused. "I did not offer the treatment. I was not the one who brought it up. Soo was the one who said her Father needed to know about it. And even then I did not bring it up until Mr. Park had categorically refused the other two options."

"I know," Cuddy sighed. "You did everything right. It's just that your refusal to comply with his family's wishes does bring to mind the possibility that you are too influenced by your own case."

"I gave him my word," House told Cuddy. "It is true that I do everything in my power, including lying, cheating, misrepresenting facts and what not, to convince a patient that my way is the right way. But once the patient has really made up his mind, when I'm sure he has all the relevant facts to use in his decision, once he has the diagnosis, I respect his wishes. Mr. Park had the facts, this is what he wanted and I will do everything I can to give him what he wanted – including his leg back."

"You don't always respect the patient's wishes like that," Cuddy insisted. "You listened to Stacy when she wanted you to do that test on her husband without his consent."

"First of all, I did not have a confirmed diagnosis then. The test was needed for that," House pointed out. "Secondly, my objectivity was definitely compromised there. I did tell Stacy from the beginning that I wasn't sure I wanted Mark to live. The other thing I wasn't sure of was what it was that I wanted to prove with that test."

"What else could you have proved with that test than your diagnosis?" Cuddy asked, startled that House was suddenly revealing things like this to her, but she wanted to know and she wasn't questioning her luck. Obviously Mr. Park's situation had brought a lot of thing to the surface for House.

"That Stacy was wrong when she said that Mark would forgive her for it," House revealed. "Sure, she was right in the sense that Mark would indeed forgive her for the test, what I doubted he would forgive was for Stacy trusting me over him."

Cuddy didn't know what to say to that. It seemed House had been more unforgiving than Stacy – or her - had realised. She had to wonder how forgiven she herself was.

"Mrs. Park intends to go to court to have the medical proxy revoked," Cuddy said, after a moment.

"Figures," House nodded. "Though I'm pretty sure she will try to get to Soo first."

"Where is she anyway?" Cuddy asked.

"In the cafeteria with Foreman," House answered. "There would be no point in trying to keep her hidden from her family as they do know where she lives. Of course I could take her home with me, but somehow I suspect you might not like it. Would I be correct in my suspicions?"

"Oh yes," Cuddy glared. "There is no way I would approve of you taking young, impressionable medical students home with you to spend the night."

"Yeah, I thought so," House sighed. "Though I really don't see why you are so against it. It's not like they are underage or anything. And some of them are really hot! Have you seen what the young women are wearing these days? I've seen hookers more covered up than them."

"Look, but don't even think of touching!" Cuddy admonished him. "And anyway, Soo is not dressing like that."

"Yeah, that proper Asian upbringing can be a real drag," House agreed.

"Will you tell me what the deal with Soo is?" Cuddy asked again. "Why are you having her trail you? I really don't believe that you are doing it to teach her or for any other altruistic reasons."

"However those are the only ones I have to offer," House widened his eyes into an innocent look.

"Fine," Cuddy gave in. "Keep your secret. But remember that I am keeping an eye on you and if there is even a hint of impropriety in your dealings with Soo, I'm going to make you sorry you were ever born! Is that clear?"

"And what else is new," House sighed under his breath as his leg gave another painful twinge.

"What?" Cuddy was not sure he had said anything, but suspected that whatever it was she really didn't want to hear it. Still she had to ask.

"Yes, it's clear," House said out loud. "And don't worry, you chick is safe, she is far too tender for my tastes. You however, are a different matter."

"Yeah, yeah," Cuddy turned to go. "Just try and behave yourself!"

-------------

When Soo came back from the cafeteria with Foreman she looked harassed. House didn't ask anything but Foreman volunteered the information that Mrs. Park had found her daughter and had had a long talk – maybe more of a tirade – with her. Soo had, however, held her own. House was still Mr. Park's doctor. Soo, though, was beginning to feel the stress.

"Right then," House said, "time to hit the clinic and see what fun can be had there today. Come along Soo."

The afternoon was spent in the clinic. Soo did all the work, pretty much. She examined the patients under House's supervision, sometimes she was ridiculed for having missed something obvious – at least in House's opinion – sometimes she got the highest praise obviously to be had from House, which was the word _correct_. She did the charting, she called the patients in, she escorted them to their tests – if any were to be taken; she arranged for them to be admitted when necessary and generally did everything a doctor did. The only thing House did all by himself was insult the patients. That he did so well that three of them demanded to see Dr. Cuddy. House didn't seem to care, and he absolutely refused to apologise when Cuddy demanded it of him. (He took Soo with him even to Cuddy's office, though it was more than obvious that he was called in there for a total dressing down.)

Later House got a page to Andie's room. He sent Soo to her father's room to spend time with her father – and Foreman who was on duty there. House went to Andie. Cameron had paged him. She was standing by Andie's bed as was Wilson. Andie's mother was holding her daughter in her arms and sobbing. It was clear from the vital signs that Andie's time was about to end. Half an hour later Wilson called it. Andie was gone. House walked to Andie, touched her briefly on the cheek as a farewell, touched silently Andie's mother on the shoulder as a small gesture of support. He turned to walk out of the room but as he passed Wilson he said quietly "You know where to find me," and then he walked out leaving Cameron and Wilson to take care of Andie's mother and what formalities were still needed.

---------

Late that night House was at home listening to Billie Holiday. After Andie had died he had collected Soo from her father's room – checking on Mr. Park at the same time; he seemed to be doing fine. He had taken Soo back to his office where they had once again gone through her father's case in fine detail. He made sure that she understood where they were right then and what was likely to happen next. He also emphasised the risks again for her.

"Are you trying to make me obey my Mother?" Soo had asked.

"No," House stated. "But you need to be informed. If you choose to use your proxy to overrule me, to do what your family wants, then you need facts on your side when you explain to your Father why you did it. On the other hand, if you choose to follow your Father's wishes you still need all the facts when you explain to your Mother why you chose to honour your Father's decisions."

"From what I hear, you don't usually keep the family this well informed," Soo said cautiously. "I thought you usually left the explaining to your fellows."

"True," House acknowledged. "But usually the family members don't grab my cane to get my attention. Though they do sometimes hit me, but even then it isn't to get my attention."

"Hit you!" Soo was startled.

"Yes," House mused. "Apparently it has something to do with my bedside manner."

Before Soo could ask more questions Wilson had come to House's office and House had told Soo that she was free for the rest of the day. Wilson had stayed with House for about an hour. They hadn't spoken much, just sat together in silence. But even that seemed to help Wilson. House had been about to offer Wilson a refuge for the night on his couch when Wilson had been called to another patient. Later, when House had checked with him he had found out that Wilson would in all likelihood stay in the hospital all night.

So here he was, alone listening to **_Mood Indigo_:**

_You ain't been blue / No, no, no / You ain't been blue / Till you've had that mood indigo / That feelin goes stealin down to my shoes / While I sit and sigh "Go 'long, blues" / Always get that mood indigo / Since my baby said goodbye / In the evenin when lights are low / I'm so lonesome I could cry / 'Cause there's nobody who cares about me / I'm just a soul who's bluer than blue can be / When I get that mood indigo / I could lay me down and die_

There was a knock on his door; apparently Wilson had been able to leave the hospital after all.

House limped to his door and opened it to find Andie's mother standing there. She looked cold, and lifeless. Her hair was damp from the snow that had been falling for the last hour or so. She opened her mouth so say something but could not find her voice.

House looked at her in silence. He was pretty sure he knew what would follow if he let her in, but then leaving her out in the cold was really not an option either. He stepped aside and wordlessly invited her in. Then, when she was inside he bolted the door, so that it could not be opened from outside with a key.

She was shivering when she entered and House took her to the couch. He wrapped her in a blanket and got a towel he then used to dry her hair like she was a sleepy child. Only she wasn't sleepy nor a child. Carefully he knelt down, minding his bum leg, and removed her boots. Her feet felt cold to his hands. He indicated that she ought to bring her feet up to the couch and then used another blanket to wrap them warmly.

In all that time neither of them had said a word. House went into his kitchen and came back a moment later with hot coffee. He didn't know how she took hers but that didn't matter. She needed something warm and sweet both for her cold and the shock, so he had added a liberal amount of sugar into her drink. She drank it slowly without any comments.

Once they had emptied their mugs, House put his on the table and leaned over to take hers from her hands. When his hands touched the mug, and also her hands that were curled around it, she looked him straight in the eyes. He stopped, not avoiding her gaze but not inviting it either. His message was clear: all up to her. She nodded and said one word: "Please." House nodded.

He took the mugs in to the kitchen. When he got back she was standing by the couch and he drew her to his side with his left arm and led the way to his bedroom. At the door he stopped for a moment and looked at her one more time with a question in his eyes. She nodded, so he took her inside.


	31. Knock, knock what now?

House was up early – well he hadn't really slept more than an hour or two at all. That was nothing new, as his leg had kept him awake many a night. He was dressed and sat in a chair next to his bed rubbing his leg and watching the red-haired woman sleep. She had needed human contact last night, almost desperately. He had been only too glad to provide it, as he himself hadn't been too keen on being alone with his thoughts. Afterwards she had buried her face in the pillows and cried herself to sleep. He had held her lightly, silently, unmoving, just keeping the presence of another human being alive between them.

He had slept too, for a while, after that, but then his leg had woken him. Not as viciously as it sometimes did, but he knew he was not going to get more rest that night. He had alternately paced and sat rubbing his leg – as he was now. He would have to start pacing again soon. He didn't want to take a Vicodin yet, because he wanted it to kick in fresh when it came time to get to work. Once there he would need to get the promised injection from Cuddy, otherwise he wasn't sure he would be up to making the necessary decisions about Mr. Park. He closed his eyes and gripped his leg harder.

"Does it always hurt like that in the morning," a quiet voice intruded into his world. He opened his eyes and saw that she was awake and looking at him.

"It always hurts. Sometimes more, sometimes less. It has been worse." House was not sure why he was answering her, and civilly too. Usually he just snarled something to make people back off. Maybe it was the pain in her eyes – she was a fellow sufferer, even if her pain wasn't physical. She looked down, at herself, at the bed, at her clothes that House had piled on the foot of the bed.

"I cannot even begin to imagine what you must be thinking of me," she said biting her lip.

"Must I?" House stood up and started pacing. "Sorry but my leg is cramping, need to move it."

"What do you mean _must you_?" she was puzzled.

"I mean must I think something of you? Based just on last night," House shrugged as best he could while limping back and forth in the room. "If I start thinking _something_ about you, then obviously I have to start thinking about me, too. And frankly, what kind of a man finds a grief-stricken mother at his doorstep and hustles her straight into bed with him?"

"It wasn't like that," she said. "You knew why I came here."

"Yes." House didn't try to wrap it up pretty. "But why would that make me think ill of you? We all do what we must to get trough the darkness of the night. And last night was the darkest you've ever had. I'm in no position to judge. We know what happened. You did not take advantage of me – I needed distraction as much as you did last night, even if not exactly for the same reason. I didn't take advantage or you, because for whatever reason, you needed this to help you through the night. Sure it's just a band-aid. Nothing has changed, nothing is solved, but the night is over. We survived it."

"And that's it? A simple need taken care of?" she didn't sound convinced.

"I don't think I would call it a simple need," House denied. "There are too many mixed emotions involved to make it simple. However, the deed, the night itself is simple enough. What happened is nobody's business but ours; we know what happened, and we have something of an idea why."

"You may have, I don't" she told him.

"Look, there are five stages to death – or actually to dealing with a traumatic event, like being told that you are about to die: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance," House tried to make sense of this all to her, "You have been trough those a few times already; first when Andie's cancer was found, then when you heard it was terminal and again, when she refused any more treatments. You have really been through the mill. Some believe that those are also the stages of grieving, but they are not. Grief starts with acceptance, though even there people are different. However, there is one thing that often happens with grief, too. That is denial. That is what this was all about for you. You could not deny that Andie is dead, so you tried to deny Death itself. It happens. At least you didn't go to a nearest bar, get yourself drunk and sleep with the first stranger you could find. Sure I'm not much better, but at least you know something about me."

"You're being very kind about this," she said.

"Now that right there proves I'm a stranger to you," House pointed out. "People who know me tend to accuse me of lots of things; _kind_ doesn't even make the top hundred."

"So what do we do now? Where do we go from here," she wondered.

"We don't go anywhere from here. This was an anomaly, if you like. Once we part, this never happened. As for what we do now, you take a shower, get dressed and I get you back to the hospital. I assume that is where your purse is as you didn't have it with you?" House questioned.

"Yes, I forgot my purse – with my keys and all my money – to the hospital. I'm not sure it wasn't intentional, because then I had to come and ask for your help," she smiled ruefully.

"Human mind is a tricky thing, the deceptions it is capable of are astounding. Like you convincing yourself that you need to walk eight miles to ask for my help when the hospital is open all night," House agreed. He pushed a cardboard box at her: "That box has things my girlfriend left behind seven years ago. If you find anything you can use in there, help yourself. I can also give you one of my shirts; if you iron it nobody will recognise it as mine."

"Thank you," she said. "You are very gracious about this all."

"There you go again proving you don't know the first thing about me," House shook his head. "You know it is possible you would have done much better with that stranger, after all. I'm going into the living room to pace and I'll put the coffee on in half an hour. No breakfast, I'm afraid. I'm not very domesticated."

--------

About an hour later, nearing nine o'clock, she had ironed one of his shirts and was wearing it – with some of the things she had found in the box and some of her own clothes - while they drank coffee in the kitchen.

"I never would have thought I'd do something like this," she mused.

"In a sense you have been alone for a very long time, you just needed a human contact," House said. "And for what it is worth, I don't usually accept invitations like yours – regardless of the reputation I may have in the hospital."

"I don't think you have the faintest idea of the kind of reputation you have in the hospital," she said with a slight smile.

"I don't really care," House stated. "As long as they leave me alone for most of the time, I don't care what they say behind my back."

"Good for you, because the stories are many and varied," she revealed.

"Huh," House grunted dismissively. "Who cares." He took a sip from his mug to chase down the Vicodin he had just taken. "How are you holding up? Really?"

"I don't know. I feel lost. Like I don't know what I'm supposed to do. How I'm supposed to go on. Everything is different, darker, murkier and more unclear. Grey. Foggy." She looked like a lost child.

"You will figure it out. In time," House stated. "Andie's bravery obviously didn't come from her father, so it had to come from you. You will make Andie proud, never fear. And for what it's worth I think Andie would have approved of last night."

"She was too young to understand something like that, let alone **approve** of it!" she exclaimed.

"Maybe, but she was the one who stole a kiss from Dr. Chase. She was all about living regardless of the circumstances. Don't forget that, ever." House insisted.

They had just finished their coffee and started to think of leaving for the hospital when there was an insistent knock on the door.

"You are expecting company?" she asked.

"No; absolutely not," House replied. "But it's probably James. You better go into the bedroom. And lock the door, we don't always respect each other's privacy, Wilson and I. If I cannot get rid of him any other way than leaving with him, there is some money in the drawer of the bed stand. Take a cab to the hospital. You can send the money to me later. If he realises I have company, he may get a little annoyed and so whatever you hear don't take it personally. It will all be aimed at me."

House waited a moment to make sure that she had locked the bedroom door; he took a look around to see if there was anything that betrayed her presence – apart from the coffee mugs, but it was too late to do anything about them, and then he went to open the door.

It was Wilson, with Blythe and John. House stared at them speechless.

"Are you ready, Greg," Blythe asked.

"Ready for what," House asked puzzled.

"Breakfast," Blythe looked at him questioningly turning then to her husband. "John, you did call Greg to tell him we were coming, didn't you?"

"Now why would I need to call our son that his mother wants to take him out to breakfast?" John asked. "That is just silly."

"Considering that our son is a grown man with a life of his own, I don't see anything silly about it," Blythe sighed. "I'm sorry Greg; I didn't mean to surprise you. We just wanted to take you and James to breakfast, you know... because ..."

"I know," House echoed her sigh. "I understand."

"I'm glad we got that sorted out," Wilson said. "Now can we come in or are you going to leave us standing here while you get your coat and whatever else you need?"

"Sorry," House grimaced, he really had no choice. "I was just surprised. Come in." He stepped aside letting his quest enter. He then turned to Wilson: "How are you?"

"Been better," Wilson sighed. "Andie's mother left the hospital last night, and nobody has seen her. She left her purse behind, with her keys. I'm a little worried."

"I'm sure she is with a friend or something, after all it's not like she couldn't have come back for them any time," House tried to reassure his friend.

"Yes, I suppose," Wilson agreed half-heartedly. "Surely she is ok."

"But are you?" House asked again.

"I'll be fine," Wilson smiled slightly. "Andie is not the first patient I have lost. I have to get over it."

"You know you are not alone," House told him.

"I know. You helped a lot yesterday, and now your mother..." Wilson shrugged. "I will be ok. I just hope nothing has happened to Andie's mother."

"I'm sure she is ok," House repeated. He then turned to his mother, who had been silently watching the exchange between the two friends. "So what is this plan about breakfast?"

"Well, I know you never have anything to eat," Blythe explained. "And I'm afraid I don't trust James to take care of himself right now, so I thought I see to it that you two at least have a proper breakfast. Therefore I intend to take you to that little place near the hospital and make sure you eat at least something before we all go in."

"You have a meeting with the therapist?" House asked.

"Yes, eleven o'clock. And I know you don't mind being late to work, so don't try to get out of this," she admonished.

"Why would he try to get out of a free meal," John laughed.

"Good point, for once," House agreed. "Why don't you go on ahead and I'll meet you there in half an hour? I still have a couple of things I need to do before I leave for work. And since I'm taking my bike anyway, I don't need a lift from anyone."

Blythe gave him a searching look obviously reading something from his face. "That might be a good idea. I don't think there is much point in us waiting for you here. We can order for you and you can get to work that much sooner."

"Nonsense, we can wait here just as well," John said, showing that he was not exactly on the same wavelength as his wife, let alone his son.

Wilson had wandered into the kitchen in search of a drink of water and when he came back he looked at House with anger in his eyes. He stood by the bedroom door and House thought it best to go and check what the matter was.

"You are not alone," Wilson whispered furiously. "Or at least you weren't. Is she still here?"

"Wilson, that has nothing to do with you," House said mildly. "Just go with my parents and I'll follow you as soon as I can."

"I cannot believe you! Andie died yesterday and you call a hooker to entertain you the same night! You disgust me," Wilson would have yelled at House had they been alone. "Where is she? In the bedroom? Were you planning for something extra when we interrupted? Is that why you need the extra half an hour?"

"Wilson, you can say anything you want to me when we are alone," House whispered urgently. "Right now I need you and my parents – especially my Mother – out of here before anything embarrassing takes place."

"I don't give a damn about your embarrassment!" Wilson hissed.

"I'm not worried about my own embarrassment," House hissed back.

"Really," Wilson's eyes were practically shooting flames. "Why don't you then just open this door and introduce us to your friend?"

"James, I know you are angry," House tried to reason with him. "But I'm sure you do not want to put my Mother through any kind of a scene, do you?"

Before Wilson could answer Blythe spoke from the other side of the room where she had been having a word with her husband.

"Come on, James," she said. "John agrees that we will get the breakfast much faster if we go now and order for Greg, too, while we wait for him. I'm sure he won't be long."

"Why don't you two go and I'll wait here for Greg," Wilson suggested. "That way I can hurry him along."

"And you would ride on his bike with him?" Blythe laughed. "Come along James, I'm sure Greg would not dream of dawdling when he knows his mother is waiting – and with a free meal, too."

"I promise to get there as soon as humanly possible," House agreed as he escorted them out of his door. Though both John and Wilson were somewhat reluctant – for different reasons – Blythe and House got them outside and House was able to shut his door.

"That was too damn close for comfort!" House sighed to himself as he leaned his head briefly against the door before bolting it again – just in case.


	32. What you see

House walked to his bedroom door and knocked on it to let her know that the coast was clear. She had obviously been standing right behind the door as she opened it immediately.

"I could not hear what he said, but Dr. Wilson sounded angry at you," she said.

"That is nothing new," House shrugged. "He gets angry at me on regular basis. You have nothing to worry about, he didn't realise that you were here. Though I think you had better take that cab now, just in case. If I take you to the hospital, someone might see us and that would not be a good idea."

"So I heard right when I thought he said something about you having company?" she asked.

"Yes, he saw the coffee mugs in the kitchen. But that's ok; there were no nametags on them." House had to bend down and rub his leg again. The Vicodin was kicking in, but he still had a cramp or two to work out. "I am curious about one thing, though."

"What?" she asked.

"Why me?" House looked puzzled. "You don't need to answer if you don't want to, but I am curious. I can understand what brought you here, but why here, why me? Why not James? You've known him longer, he was there with you all through Andie's illness, he would definitely have helped you this way too – in fact, I would have thought my acceptance was by no means as certain. So why me?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I wasn't really thinking last night, just following my instincts. I have to think about it, but I believe something about you made me trust you more."

"Strange," House mused. "I would have thought most would see Wilson as the more trustworthy of the two of us."

"Maybe, but as I said I need to think about it. I would like to know, too, because I don't know if I'm ashamed of myself, or if I even should be," she bit her lip in indecision. "This is not typical behaviour for me, and yet you have been strangely ... I don't know ... respectful to me. But I do know that I don't want anyone else to know about this."

"This is nobody else's business in any way," House agreed. "I'm not telling anyone; never fear."

"I didn't think you would," she said. "Though thank you for reassuring me on that point. But you are right, it's better that I take a cab. I'll pay you back when I get my purse."

"You better send the money to me here, just in case," House advised.

"Yes, again you are right," she smiled ruefully. "I'm not very good at intrigue or anything like this."

They made ready to go, House called the cab and as soon as it arrived he escorted her to it, before leaving on his bike for the breakfast meeting with his mother.

House had not driven even quite three miles of the way when he saw Soo walking towards the hospital, looking miserable. His first thought was to drive on, but he found himself braking to a stop – all the while cursing the person or power or whatever that had all of a sudden filled him with the milk of human kindness! Though he did tell himself that Soo was his to torment for the time being and nobody else was allowed to make her miserable.

"What are you doing here?" House asked, startling Soo. "I thought I made it clear I wanted you waiting for me when I get to work today."

"Dr. House!" Soo exclaimed. "Ugh.. I'm trying to avoid my Mother," she then confessed. House looked around in an exaggerated manner.

"You are doing a great job, then! I cannot see hide nor hair of her."

"I meant that I spent the night with friends instead of my rooms," Soo explained. "I got a lift there and forgot to make sure I had the bus fare back."

"Fine," House sounded exasperated. "I'll give you a lift. I'm meeting my Mother first, so you can take a message to Foreman. I need fresh MRI of your Father's leg waiting for me when I get to work." He tossed the helmet to Soo and waited for her to climb on his bike – which she did, though she was stunned speechless.

--------

Having deposited Soo at the Hospital entrance House went on to have breakfast with his parents and Wilson. Blythe did her best to make it a pleasant enough occasion, but with Wilson glaring at House at every opportunity and John trying to be fatherly it was not easy. Nobody came to blows, however, so in a way it was a success – though mainly the success was due to House ignoring most of what the other men said or did and just concentrating on his food.

After the breakfast Blythe insisted that she wanted a lift on House's bike to the hospital; as it was just a couple of hundred yards, House agreed. Wilson and John walked as they had parked the car in the PPTH parking lot. As they were walking towards the hospital after parking House's bike – again in the handicap space – Blythe turned to House to apologize once more for the morning.

"I told him to phone you," Blythe said. "I am truly sorry for having put you in a difficult position."

"It's ok, Mother," House said. "It wasn't your fault. And in fact most mornings there would have been no problem."

"Murphy's law," Blythe agreed. "How is she, anyway?"

"Who?" House asked warily. He knew it was too much to expect that his mother hadn't figured out that he had had company when they arrived, but surely that was all she could have guessed.

"Andie's mother," Blythe answered showing once again how well he could read her son's mind.

"I cannot say," House said cautiously. He knew denial was pointless, but he still didn't want to admit anything outright, not after his promise that morning.

"Yes, you are right," Blythe admitted. "It really is not your place to answer for her. I have to ask her myself if I want to know."

"Mother..." House started but didn't know how to go on from there.

"Don't worry, son," Blythe reassured him. "I'm not judging. It is not my place to tell anyone how to cope with a loss like hers."

"Thank you," was all House said, and they closed the subject.

Once they reached the hospital they waited for John and Wilson to catch up with them and then they all walked in together. Once inside Wilson said curtly his goodbyes and left to go into his own office. House turned to walk to Cuddy's office ready to ask for the injection he felt he needed now more than ever before. Blythe and John followed him for part of the way as the therapist Blythe was about to see was in the same direction.

"You really don't know how lucky you are," John said to his son, making House grind his teeth together with an effort to keep silent. "This is a fine hospital you work in and the people here do their best to accommodate you and your surliness. You really should be more appreciative of all they are willing to do for you. You have so much."

"I'm not so sure you have the faintest idea of my _haves_ and _have nots_!" House growled.

"I really don't know what more do you want!" John stared at his son in incomprehension. "That infarction or whatever it was you had in your leg could have killed you. But instead of being grateful to Stacy for saving your life you drove her away. You are alive, you have a well-paying job – there are millions who would trade places with you in a heartbeat! You just don't know how truly lucky you are."

"Yeah, I'm not-dead! How bloody lucky do you think that makes me," House was on the verge of loosing control.

"You are much more than just not-dead," John insisted. "If you just stopped wallowing in self-pity you could see the life you really have!"

"And if you stopped blinding yourself with self-righteousness you might be able to see further than your own nose," House's voice was not loud but it was vicious. "You never did understand anything that was outside your narrow perception. You think that Stacy saved my life? That this, what I have now is anything even resembling a life? The only thing I am is not-dead! And I would hell of a rather **be** dead than this. And I had a chance to be just that: dead. No pain, no begging for bloody pain-medication from stupid idiots who think I must be an addict for needing it, nobody telling me that it is all in my head, no waking up in the middle of the night to near unbearable agony, no pacing the corridors of this hospital in a vain attempt to ease the hell this leg is putting me through. I could be dead! But I'm not, because my bloody girlfriend and my bloody doctor got their heads together and decided to extract their pound of flesh from me, for whatever debt they decided I owed them. They didn't have the guts to respect me and my wishes. They decided that they knew better than I what kind of a life I would be able to live with. And once they had screwed me up but good, one of them left, all the while patting herself on the back for having _at least saved my life_ and the other one buried her head in the sand refusing to see the true results of her handiwork. Yeah, I'm just so bloody lucky for being _not-dead_!"

John House stared stunned at his son. Blythe reached out with her hand, but House turned away abruptly towards Cuddy's door only to stop short at the sight of Cuddy standing there, pale and stunned. She had obviously heard every hissed word that House had thrown at his father. House looked at her for about a heartbeat, but then he just walked to face her.

"I need that injection," House said quietly, and then he walked past her into her office. Cuddy followed him in after a moment.

-------

Cuddy had not said a single word while giving him the injection. House was glad of that; he did not want to talk especially not of his outburst to his father. He wished he had been able to hold it all inside; he had not wanted to reveal something like that to his mother. He could convince anyone else – including Cuddy – that the outburst had been just that: an outburst provoked by pain and his Father's persistent prodding. His mother was the only one he knew would have seen the truth in his words. But it was out. Not recalling any of the words. The best he could hope was to make his mother believe that those were his sentiments only on his bad days – hopefully she wouldn't ask how often he had those bad days!

House limped to his office. He was still careful though the morphine was working and the pain was almost gone for the moment. When he got there he found Wilson sitting in his chair. He stood in the doorway considering for a moment to ask Foreman and Chase to get Wilson out of there, but then he decided against it. Better to have this out now.

"Not that you care, but Andie's mother is ok," Wilson started. "She came back this morning to get her purse. Cameron spoke with her."

"Why wouldn't I care?" House asked. "I'm glad she is fine."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself," Wilson sneered as best he could. "Andie died yesterday and the very same night you ... I cannot even say it. You couldn't respect Andie's memory even for a few hours!"

"How would my abstaining made any difference?" House asked mildly. "It would not have brought her back. It would not have lessened anyone's grief. And I don't think last night disrespected Andie in any way. Don't forget, we are talking about the girl who got Chase to kiss her! You yourself told me I ought to follow her example more."

"Don't; don't even think of comparing that kiss to what you did last night!" Wilson was furious.

"Why not?" House asked. "She didn't crawl into her grave before she had to. And she most certainly didn't want anyone else to do that either. She enjoyed life when she could. I don't think denying life is any way to respect her memory."

"You are just making excuses for the inexcusable," Wilson huffed. "I can't believe you can think what you did was ok in any way! How can you think taking advantage of someone like that is acceptable?"

House got worried; surely Wilson could not know who it had been. Blythe would never have told anyone – but she had guessed. And it was possible that Andie's mother had let something slip while talking with Cameron. Also Cameron was the one person who might have recognised the shirt even after it was ironed.

"What kind of advantage have I now taken and of whom?" House decided to make a straight question. Guessing would probably just get him into deeper hot water.

"Don't try that," Wilson shook his head sadly at House. "You were seen."

"And who might have seen me?" House tried to stall for time still.

"Bloody near everybody!" Wilson yelled finally. "Were you out of your mind to bring her right to the front door? Didn't you have any regard for her reputation? Have you any idea what this is going to do to her position in this hospital? Let alone the problems you causing Cuddy. You are the doctor who is taking care of her Father! And she has her father's medical proxy – which, by the way, is something her mother disapproves of as she thinks you have too much influence on her daughter!"

"Soo?" House stared at Wilson. "You are talking about Soo! What on earth gave you the idea that she was the woman in my flat this morning?"

"Don't try to deny it," Wilson insisted. "Her mother couldn't locate her last night and this morning she came to work on your bike!"

"So I gave her a lift? How does that prove that she spent the night with me? Sometimes, you know, a lift is just a lift." House wondered – somewhat relieved, though. Wilson was still in the dark.

"So you are really saying that it was not Soo, in your flat this morning?" Wilson started cautiously to believe his friend.

"Yes, that is what I'm saying," House confirmed. "And I really feel insulted that you could think something like that of me."

"Look House, I'm sorry," Wilson said deflated. "I didn't mean to leap to conclusions, but it fit. It just fit! I'm sorry if I was wrong. I still think you were wrong in getting company for the night, but if it wasn't Soo – or any other medical student, then I'm sorry."

"No, it was not Soo," House growled – refusing to let Wilson see how revealed he actually was. "Nor was it anyone else I needed to manipulate or coerce or blackmail or seduce in any other nefarious method to grace my bed. Happy? Only I have work to do. Foreman ought to have some fresh MRI's for me to see."

"Yeah, yeah," Wilson looked down on the floor in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"Fine," House told him. "Next time don't be so eager to leap into conclusions."


	33. The littlest duckling

_Just to remind you again, the medicine in this storyline is extremely suspect. I truly have no idea what I'm talking about, so if you know better, please don't tell me_ ;) _just suspend your disbelief, please - pretty please. _

_And thank you for the reviews, you have been very kind _D.

---------------

Having turned his back to Wilson House limped into the conference room where his ducklings were waiting for him with Soo, the _littlest_ duckling.

"So did you get the MRI?" House asked Foreman as he walked in.

"I just brought them with me," Foreman said putting the image up on the light board next to the previous one taken the day before. House walked up to the pictures and studied them. Then he turned to Soo – as everybody had learned to expect after two days.

"What do you see in them then?" House demanded.

Soo took a look, but shook her head: "I don't know. I don't know enough to analyze the differences in the images."

"Ah, yes, I had almost forgotten you were the useless one," House mused somewhat callously. "Any ideas though? What does your gut say?"

"My gut is worried," Soo snapped at him.

"If you insist on treating all patients like they are family members you better get used to that," House informed her.

"I thought your advice was for me to learn not to treat patients like they were family, so why do I need to get used to that?" Soo pointed out.

"Because no matter what I say you will care. I know your type. Cameron is one just like that too and she hasn't learned to be objective. And my advice, if anyone would listen to me, would be to learn to treat family members like patients," House told her.

"That's great advice," Cameron could not help but huff at him. "You never see patients unless you really cannot avoid it!"

"Yeah, and that would work great with family, too," House enthused. "If only you could get the family to co-operate! But back to the subject at hand: what does your gut say Soo?"

"It's still worried!" She sighed. "There is something in the image that I don't like, though I don't know enough to know what it means. That area there is what is drawing my attention for some reason." Soo circled the place in question with her finger.

Before House could say anything the door to the diagnostics room opened – would have opened with a bang if that had been possible – and Cuddy stormed in.

"House!" Cuddy practically yelled. "I want a word. Now!"

"Oh dear," House made a face. "It seems that I have been a bad boy once again. Foreman, explain to Soo the images and what it is that worries her. I'll be back as soon as my Dominatrix is done with me, though if you see her taking out the whips come and rescue me." With that House left the room and took Cuddy into his office.

"I wonder what he has done this time," Chase was the one who voiced the question out loud though all the ducklings thought it.

--------------

"Before you start yelling," House warned Cuddy. "I better remind you that these walls are not sound-proof."

"I can't believe you House!" Cuddy didn't seem to pay no mind to his words, but she was not yelling – precisely. "After I specifically warned you, you still go and do something so asinine I can hardly believe it, even of you."

"This conversation would be a lot more productive if you could be a little more specific about the _asinine_ thing I'm supposed to have done," House pointed out.

"Are you telling me there are several possibilities?" Cuddy looked appalled.

"With you there always is," House insisted. "I have no way of knowing which of my actions you choose to take an unreasonable exception to at any given time."

"Unreasonable!" Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You think it is unreasonable to object to what you did last night?"

"Last night?" House exaggerated his pondering. "Yes, I definitely think it would be unreasonable."

"Have you no conscience? No decency? No ethics?" Cuddy looked disgusted.

"How many times you want me to answer those questions" House asked in turn. "I mean you have asked me at least one of them every week since I started here, I would think you knew the answers by now."

"Apparently I have this insane wish that one of these days you would change," Cuddy fumed. "Though where I got the idea that you even could change, I don't know."

"Nor I," House agreed. "Though would you mind telling me what was so particularly heinous and unusual about last night?"

"Unusual?" Cuddy pounced on the one word. "How many medical students have you slept with then?" She looked totally appalled.

"Oh," House looked up pretending to try and remember while looking nonchalant and doing his best to hide his relief – not busted, after all! "I'm afraid I lost count. I was a bit of a lad those days, you know."

"I'm not talking about the days when you were a medical student, too," Cuddy snapped at him. "I'm talking about how many of MY medical students have you slept with."

"Come along," House said, grabbed her arm and took her back to the four ducklings. "Soo, would you mind telling Dr. Cuddy where you were last night."

Soo looked puzzled but complied: "I was with friends. I was trying to avoid my mother."

"Are those friends medical students too?" House asked

"Yes, they are," Soo looked no wiser.

"Care to share their names with us – and the address where you stayed," House invited. Soo obliged rattling three names and an address to Cuddy, who started to look a little sheepish.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand what this is all about," Soo wondered.

"Apparently I ought to have followed my normal instincts this morning and **not** give you a lift to work," House explained with a humorous face.

"You mean people think... Because you ... Just from having seen you drop me off at the door?" Soo didn't quite know how to formulate the thought.

"Yep," House confirmed. "Sorry about that. You may have to put up with some funny looks for a while."

"The looks may be the least of my worries," Soo sighed. "My room mate will want details and she will never believe that I don't have any."

"Just tell her I sucked," House shrugged. "That ought to end that conversation."

"She'll never believe me," Soo was still shaking her head at the idea of the third degree she was sure she was going to face. "She thinks you're hotter than hell." Having slipped that out of her mouth, Soo suddenly remembered where she was and who she was talking to. Her appalled gaze flew up to House and she put both her hands over her mouth.

"Really," House leered delightedly. "You think you could introduce us?"

"House!" Cuddy growled at him.

"Ok, ok. Medical students are a no-no," House sighed with deep disappointment. "It will be my new mantra, though I don't know why. It's not like they are underage or anything."

"Age is not the only factor that comes into it," Cuddy was almost incoherent in her indignation. "Your position in this hospital, your role as a possible mentor and teacher... Why do I even try?"

"Come on, Cuddy," House decided to have mercy on her. "Do you really think I would go for a medical student?"

"Who then?" Cuddy didn't seem to be willing to be convinced. "Wilson told me you had company last night. If it wasn't Soo, who was it then?"

"Soo has already told you where and with who she was," House stated icily. "Apart from letting you know that it was not a medical student of any kind, I have no obligation to tell you who the _Abyssinian maid _playing her_ dulcimer_ in my_ pleasure dome_ last night was. And you most certainly do not have the right to ask."

Cuddy had the sense to look a little ashamed: "You are right, I'm sorry. Your private life is none of my business as long as it doesn't interfere with your work or this hospital. And since we have cleared that up, I'll leave you to do your work." She left them to it.

"Abyssinian maid?" Foreman repeated questioningly breaking the silence Cuddy had left behind her.

"It's from _The Ballad of Kubla Khan_," Chase revealed.

"I thought our Brit would recognise Coleridge," House lightened up some.

"I'm Australian," Chase repeated once again, knowing full well that no matter how many times he said it, House would ignore it.

"Right," House agreed unconvincingly. "But back to work. Did Foreman have time to explain the images to you before you were so rudely interrupted?"

"Yes, he did," Soo said.

"Ok, so what we have here is a bit of a dilemma," House sat down at the desk – the others followed suit. "Your father refused surgery, which is why we are trying this treatment. These images, however, give us new information and we – or more precisely you, since you have his medical proxy – have to decide what he really meant. That area, which worried you, is the part where the damage is its severest and the toxins from it may be fatal to your father. My suggestion is that we remove it surgically. Just that area, which is less than ten percent of the muscle, not the whole damaged muscle tissue as the conventional recommendation is. If the rest of the treatment goes as we want, he ought to be able to overcome that loss with physical therapy and other treatments. It will take some time, but that is the case anyway, no matter what we do."

"Are you saying that removing just that part would not leave my father crippled and it would increase his chances of surviving his chosen treatment?" Soo asked.

"That would be my estimation," House nodded. "As long as the rest of the treatment works and as long as the nerves are not too damaged."

"The nerve damage has been the big question all along, no matter what treatment your Father chose," Foreman reminded her. "We really have no way of knowing for sure how much damage the blockage did until we have finished the treatment and the rehab."

"So no matter what we do, no matter how well this treatment succeeds, he may still be crippled by the chronic pain?" Soo repeated.

"We did discuss that with you and your Father," House said. "He is aware of that risk as well."

"But this operation you are now recommending would not in itself increase that risk?" Soo wanted to be sure.

"To the best of my estimation: no." House promised.

"Would you have chosen this operation, yourself?" Soo asked. She was a little afraid to ask, but this was her father, so she had to be sure.

"I don't know for sure, but I think I would have," House mused. "It is possible that I would not have trusted a surgeon not to cut more than agreed once he had the chance, but that is not a problem here as you and I will both scrub in to observe, as will Foreman."

"I think my father would accept this surgery," Soo did her best to assess the situation. "What he wanted to do was to fight to the end against becoming a cripple and this would not change that. Besides he trusted you, Dr. House. One of the reasons he wanted to give me the proxy was to make sure that you will stay on as his doctor. Yes, I will agree to this surgery you are suggesting."

"Ok, then. We get a surgeon and prepare your father for the surgery," House nodded. "This will also have the advantage of getting your mother off your back. We are doing a surgery, after all. Once this is done, I think we can wake him from the coma the day after tomorrow. He will still be in pain, but we ought to be able to control that with normal medication."

"Good. Are you sure I can come into the OR?" Soo wanted to know.

"My patient, my ducklings," House shrugged. "I don't see how the surgeon could refuse."

"But I'm really not one of your _ducklings_," Soo hesitated.

"For the time being and for all practical purposes you are," House stated. "Sure you are the _littlest_ of them, but a duckling is a duckling."

House stood up and went into his office leaving Soo sitting stunned at the table. She felt like she had passed some strange test or initiation process and come through it with honours. And the other three people in the room were looking at her smiling like they, too thought the same thing. _The littlest duckling_, Soo couldn't help, she smiled from ear to ear.


	34. Reasons

**Happy New Year to All!**

_The time in the story, though, is still before Christmas._

-----------------------------------

House was in his office when his mother came to see him.

"You're done with the therapist?" House asked.

"For today, yes," Blythe said kissing her son on the cheek.

"What did you do with Dad?" was the next question her son had.

"I asked him to wait for me in the cafeteria. I didn't think it would be a good idea to bring you two together quite yet," Blythe told him.

"I didn't behave very well this morning," House tried to show he was sorry but he didn't quite know how to apologize as he had meant what he said.

"Nor did your father," Blythe said gently. "He means well, you know that. He really tries to help."

"I know," House said. "That probably makes it worse. He just doesn't understand, never has. But I ought to be used to it by now. I'm sorry, Mom, I didn't want to distress you."

"I know," Blythe said stroking his hair. "You were in pain, in more ways than one I suspect."

"I'm ok, most of the time, really," House told her. "It's just sometimes that I ... It's just sometimes."

"I heard a rumour when I was coming out of the therapist," Blythe changed the subject and took a seat opposite her son. "Something about you and Soo Park?"

"That one!" House sighed with exasperation. "I saw her out walking this morning and gave her a lift to the hospital. With Wilson telling everyone that I had company last night and everyone seeing me bring Soo to the front door the rumours are running ripe. Fortunately Soo can prove where she was so she is in no trouble – except from the rumour mill, but that cannot be helped."

"I think there were some rumours going around about you two even before this morning," Blythe told him. "It seems that people find it hard to believe you would have taken her father as a patient just because she asked you to."

"His case is interesting," House shrugged, not wanting to go into details of why it was interesting. "And Soo was persistent. She actually threatened to beat me with my stick if I didn't listen to her." He smiled.

"Gutsy of her, especially given your position in the hospital and your reputation," Blythe approved. "Is that why you are taking an interest in her as well?"

"Partly," House admitted. "I gave one lecture on diagnostics when Dr. Riley was ill with self-induced lead poisoning, the idiot! Soo was there. She showed some intelligence and I just wanted to see how she would cope in real situations. Also I did want to torment her a little as payback for snatching my cane. I was going to send her back to her fellow students after the first day, but she showed promise. I think she will end up being a very good doctor."

House didn't want to tell his mother that the thing that had stayed in his mind about Soo was her opinion that Cuddy and Stacy had not had the right to put him through the surgery against his wishes. That was a little too emotional a reason for him to admit to out loud. Besides, it was just the reason why he had remembered her, not why he had decided to mentor her for these few days.

"So you decided to help her on her way of becoming one?" Blythe inquired.

"Yes, a little," House said. "This will last only as long as her Father is my patient, but since she would be around for that anyway, and one more little duckling following me around for a few days doesn't make much of a difference one way or the other, she might as well get the full experience."

"You find her entertaining, don't you?" Blythe smiled.

"Fine, I admit it. She tries to behave respectfully and properly but every now and then her tongue runs away with her and it's quite funny to see her be upset by her own words," House laughed a little. "I even expect to get quite a lot of entertainment out of the rumours making their rounds now, though introducing her to the full effect of the gossip mongering of hospitals was not in the original study plan."

"You will be careful though," Blythe was a little worried. "Gossip can hurt."

"I know," House frowned a little. "I'm not going to feed the mill; I'm taking my fun out of Wilson and Cuddy. I don't think the gossip about Soo and me will make the rounds for very long as there is bound to happen something more interesting soon in a hospital this big."

"Let us hope so!" Blythe smiled, but then she got more serious: "But tell me, if the truth about last night gets out, how much trouble are you in?"

"Cuddy will chew my... head off, Wilson will sulk for a week or so," House shrugged. "That's pretty much it. It's not like she is my patient or even a relative of one. Wilson was the doctor. Even when he asked me for a consultation he was still the doctor, and the consultation was over a year ago. But I would rather not see the truth get out, at least not as long as she is still around."

"You don't expect her to stay around then?" Blythe asked.

"No," House said. "Given the circumstances I don't."

"I see," Blythe sighed. "Are you ok? After this morning and everything?"

"I'm fine, Mother," House told her. "Really. It was a little rough, but Cuddy gave me some stronger medication to tide me over for the moment. I'll be back to normal soon."

"If you are sure?"

"Yes, Mother, I am," House reassured her. "You don't need to worry."

"I know I don't need to," Blythe said though they both knew she would anyway. "I better go and collect your Dad from the cafeteria. I'll call you later."

"Thank you Mom," House said. "And I better go and make sure Mr. Park is ready for his surgery."

----------------

On her way to the cafeteria Blythe met Cuddy who too was on her way there.

"Blythe, hi," Cuddy greeted her. "How was your meeting with the therapist?"

"Hello, Lisa," Blythe responded. "It went well. But how are you? You looked a little upset this morning."

"I'm fine," Cuddy dismissed. "It was a bit startling to hear him but I'm ok. I mean, what do I have to complain about!"

"My son would come to mind," Blythe suggested gently.

"I knew what I was getting into with him when I hired him," Cuddy insisted.

"Knowing my son, I seriously doubt that," Blythe said. "This morning... You do know that he didn't mean for you to hear it, don't you Lisa?"

"Yes, I do know," Cuddy acknowledged. "But it still doesn't change the facts, does it?"

"No, but I doubt any one of us knows all the facts and even one missing can change the picture quite a lot," Blythe pointed out. "You really shouldn't blame yourself for what happened. You did your best."

"Didn't save his leg, though," Cuddy said. "And now he is showing me how it could have been done."

"How can he be showing you that?" Blythe asked curiously.

"He has a patient who has exactly the same thing as he had, including the initial misdiagnosis," Cuddy revealed. "And his patient, too, absolutely refused amputation as an option, so Greg is trying out the treatment I interrupted."

"I see," Blythe sighed. "That explains a few things about his behaviour that has puzzled me a little."

"You are not alone in your puzzlement," Cuddy told her. "I don't know how much of the rumours doing the rounds here you hear ..."

"Are you talking about the ridiculous story about Greg and Soo?" Blythe smiled. "Never believed it for a moment."

"Oh, well that's good," Cuddy nearly stammered. "Because there is not truth in it – apart from the fact that he did bring her to work this morning."

"And I presume the reason you know it isn't true is because you already confronted him with it?" Blythe mildly teased Cuddy.

"Well yes. And ended up looking like a fool," Cuddy admitted. "Sometimes it is a little difficult to know when he is serious and when not and he ... He can really say things that ... He can be a real ass! And sometimes he just provokes me into acting before I think."

"You really need to stop worrying about it, Lisa," Blythe told her. "Greg is not likely to embroiler you into that kind of scandal. Some other kind, possibly, but not that. And there's John waiting for me, do you want to join us or..?"

"Thanks but I'll just grab a sandwich and eat in my office," Cuddy said. They said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

-------------

Mr. Park's surgery went as planned. With Soo standing in the room and with all the possible wavers signed the surgeon was happy to remove only the prescribed amount of dead muscle from Mr. Park's thigh. Afterwards House had left Soo in her father's room with Foreman on watch for the next couple of hours after which Cameron was to take over as Foreman had his clinic hours. House had told him to let Soo tag along for those, too.

House was sitting in his office playing his game boy when Andie's mother knocked on the door. She was still wearing the same clothes as that morning, indicating that she had been in the hospital all this time, probably taking care of formalities – and possibly saying goodbye to Andie.

"Hi," she said a little timidly. "I was wondering if I could take one last look at Andie's balcony?"

"Sure," House invited her in. "We are probably dismantling it later today, but you are welcome to stay on it as long as you need."

"Thank you," she said and walked out. House didn't follow her until some fifteen minutes later.

House walked onto the balcony with two mugs and a thermos full of hot chocolate. He found Andie's mother sitting on the recliner hugging the pink blanket. Looking over the divider towards Wilson's office House saw Wilson at his desk working desultorily and occasionally looking at her with a worried look on his face.

"Hot chocolate?" House offered setting the mugs and the thermos on the little table.

"Thank you," she said. "I think I'd like some." She poured the drinks and gave his to House who was leaning against the divider with his back to Wilson. House nodded his thanks.

"She was very happy with her balcony," she said.

"I know," House commented. He could have said more about wishing Andie had had more time to spend there or hoping there would have been more he could have done, but it would have been pointless so he remained silent.

"I have a cousin in Spokane," she went on. "Washington State you know. She says I ought to go and stay with her for a while."

"Might be a good idea," House agreed. "It would give you some distance from the cancer."

"When I talked about it on the phone with her she said it would give some distance to my memories," she took a sip from her drink. "You say _cancer_ like it is somehow a separate issue from ... I don't know, everything?"

"It is," House stated. "You will never get any distance from your memories of Andie since those you will always carry with you. She is part of you. But she is your daughter, and that is how you will remember her. This hospital, we, all of us in here, we are associated with her cancer. And that is what you do need to leave behind. You don't need reminders of that. At least not until you are ready to deal with them. And that may take quite a while."

"You were expecting this," she realized. "You knew even before ... everything, that I would not stay."

"I thought it was likely," House confessed. "I have seen parents react to the loss of a child before."

She nodded her head silently and sat there drinking her chocolate till the mug was empty. "I think that is why I came to you," she mused quietly. "You don't expect anything from me. Had I gone to Dr. Wilson, he would have wanted to give some meaning to what happened."

"It wasn't meaningless," House pointed out.

"No, it wasn't," she smiled a little. "But he would have wanted to give it some conventional, acceptable meaning, something a little more lasting. You don't. You know that I'm empty, that I have nothing to give right now and that's ok with you."

"I don't have that much to give myself, even if my reasons are different – and possibly less acceptable," House said.

"Dr. Wilson is a compassionate, caring doctor. When he is with you and his patients you can see it and feel it and it is real. But I think it is not very lasting. He invites trust, but I'm not completely sure that he is worthy of that trust every time," she tried to analyze her impressions. "You on the other hand, you don't invite trust. In fact I think you try to discourage it whenever you can. But when you do allow somebody to trust you, you won't disappoint. If humanly possible, of course."

"You may be right about Wilson," House agreed. "But I think you are a little too optimistic in your assessment of me."

"My opinion, I'm entitled to it," she smiled. "Thank you for the chocolate, and the balcony ... and everything." She stood up and turned to go inside. House followed her.

"I will send these back to you later," she said indicating her borrowed clothes.

"No need," House said. "I better not wear it anyway, just in case. Keep it or throw it away."

"Thank you," she said turning to face him and giving him her hand. "Goodbye."

He took the hand and nodded. "Goodbye."

Once Andie's mother was gone House turned around and saw Chase in the conference room staring at him with a puzzled frown on his face.


	35. The Blue eyed boy

The three musketeers were in the conference room waiting for House so they could go through the post-operative tests that had been done on Mr. Park. Soo had been sent to the cafeteria to get sandwiches for them all. Foreman was making notes of things to explain to Soo, once she got back, so she could have answers to House's questions. Cameron was making fresh coffee and Chase had just returned from his stint in the clinic.

"You know," Chase said gleefully, "I think I know who the _Abyssinian Maid_ was."

"Chase, you know how House feels about his privacy," Cameron warned him. "It's not a good idea to discuss it. Besides I don't want to know."

"That's because you are jealous of any woman who gets that close to House," Chase taunted her.

"I'm over my infatuation," Cameron insisted. "But that does not mean that I'm comfortable with speculations about his love-life."

"Normally I would be perfectly happy to speculate about it," Foreman inserted, "but this time I think we better be careful as his reaction to Cuddy's question rather makes me think it is a sensitive issue."

"Oh yes," Chase agreed vigorously. "It is very much a sensitive issue. It's big trouble kind of sensitive issue."

"Then you should most definitely leave it alone," Cameron cried. "I'm sure we can find something better to do than speculate about other people's sex-life."

"Are you really telling me you are not the least interested in knowing who was with House last night?" Chase wondered.

"I can't say I'm not interested," Foreman admitted. "But I'm much more interested in my continued good health! So thank you, but whatever it is you think you know, keep it to yourself."

"Better take Foreman's advice, Chase," House said curtly from the doorway. "Your father is no longer around to make phone calls for you. So if you know what is good for you, you shut up."

"What phone calls?" Chase was distracted from his original subject. "What are you talking about?"

"Here, Chase, your coffee," Cameron tried to change the subject by giving Chase a mug. "House, Soo ought to be back from the cafeteria with sandwiches soon, so we can then go through the test results."

"You know something about that, Cameron?" Chase could hear the slightly false note in Cameron's voice. She had never been any good at lying or even prevaricating.

"Yes, Cameron," House was happy to share misery. "Do tell Chase what it was I was talking about."

"It's none of my business," Cameron insisted. "Besides I cannot see what relevance it has anymore."

"What is going on?" Foreman looked at the others. It seemed to him that Cameron and House knew something about Chase that Chase – and he – didn't. "What is it that you two know that we don't?"

"What I know and you don't could fill volumes," House pointed out. "But if you mean things that Cameron also knows, then I think the answer is: not much."

"But still something," Chase stated. "What is it, Cameron?"

"You have to take it up with House," Cameron said. "You two can talk it out; I'm not getting into this."

"House?" Chase turned to his boss.

"It's quite simple," House told him. "Cameron wanted to know why she was hired. I told her that and also why I had hired you and Foreman."

"And... ?" Chase prompted. "Why did you hire me?"

"Because your father made a phone call," House revealed.

"My father called you and told you to hire me?" Chase couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"No, of course not," House dismissed the idea. "All that would have got him would have been advice to wipe his blue-eyed boy's ass himself. No, he called one of his buddies who was also one of the hospital's biggest sponsor's who in turn called Cuddy and couple of the other board members. You were supposed to have the fellowship in the bag even before you set a foot on the premises for the interview."

Chase stared at House appalled and speechless.

"Supposed to have?" Foreman could not contain his curiosity at House's choice of words.

"You know me," House flipped. "I don't really do well with orders. So what all that calling really got for Chase was an interview."

"So you hired me because I did well on the interview?" Chase sounded puzzled. He hadn't thought it had gone that well. In fact he had always thought he got the fellowship just because House was too lazy to do interviews at all.

"Nah," House confirmed Chase's recollection of the occasion. "You sucked at the interview. But what I found interesting was that you were not interested in securing the position. From the beginning it was fairly obvious that you didn't know it was supposed to be an arranged thing already and yet, you didn't really care what kind of an impression you were giving when we met. You were looking for a parking place only."

"Parking place?" Cameron wondered.

"Yes. A parking place," House said, but would not explain further as he saw that Chase understood.

Before anyone could ask more questions Soo came back with the sandwiches.

--------

At the end of the day House was sitting alone in his office. Mr. Park's tests had confirmed that they could bring him out of the coma in two days time. It was still necessary to monitor his condition closely as there were still enough dead muscle cells to cause problems, but so far so good. House had released his ducklings for the day.

House was reading a medical journal when Chase entered his office. House had half expected him.

"What did you mean by saying I was just looking for a parking place," Chase asked.

"You know perfectly well what I meant," House countered.

"No, I don't," Chase insisted.

"Fine," House put down his journal. "You got into medical school because your father forced you to. You graduated with top marks, because he insisted and you could. But you had no interest in medicine whatsoever. Your plan was to find a parking place, a position as a fellow or assistant or whatever, where you could stay put until your father died and you could leave the whole profession behind you and live on your inheritance. From the moment you entered medical school you started to mark time till you could get out."

"I'm a doctor," Chase insisted. "You have no right to say that I haven't been a doctor. That I haven't done my job! Besides, I didn't inherit money from my father."

"I know you didn't," House conceded. "But you didn't know that when you originally made your plans. Mind you, I don't think that was your father's original plan either. He was counting on his genes kicking in and making you a doctor no matter how much you kicked and screamed against it. He forced you into medical school; he blackmailed you into doing well there. When he couldn't get you do quite what he wanted, he foisted you on me on the mistaken idea that I would be the one to force you into being a doctor. His last visit here was to check if I was shaping you the way he wanted you to be shaped. I wasn't. And you still showed signs of wanting out of the field of medicine. So he did what he could to force you to stay."

"Why would he do something like that," Chase said. "You don't know what you are talking about. You know nothing about me and my father. And you have no right to say that I'm not a doctor. I have done my job. I have been an asset to this team."

"You have the ability to be a doctor. You have the skills, instincts and the knowledge needed to be a doctor. And occasionally you even **are** a doctor. But most of the time you still just mark time," House was not going to let his wombat get off easy. "You don't want to be a doctor and you still resent being forced into the field. Perfectly understandable. But you are not doing anything about it. Your father is dead and you have to let him go. Take him out of the equation. You are right, I don't know much anything about him but he does not matter anymore. Either you get out or you get in. Your fellowship is up very soon. I will not renew it unless I know you are in, unless you have made the decision to follow a career in medicine and to hell with your father. The skills, qualities, abilities and instincts that you have can make you a great doctor. But they can make you anything else you want too. What you need to do is to make up your mind about what it is you want. I'm not carrying you anymore. I'm not kicking you any further on this road. You either walk it yourself or you find another road. You have now received due and proper notice on your parking place. Time's up."

"You are firing me?" Chase was shocked.

"No," House stated. "I'm perfectly willing to keep you on my team if you can convince me that that is what you truly want."

"But I do want," Chase insisted. "Why would you question that?"

"I think I need to hear a lot more conviction in your voice to accept that statement," House doubted. "Think about it and let me know. You still have time."

"Why are you doing this to me," Chase questioned.

"Because I can," House said. "I'm not your father. I don't care if you go on in medicine or not. If you want to do something else, go do it. I can find someone else to replace you; I will have to do that eventually anyway. If you do want to be a doctor, there are still things I can teach you, but I will not waste more of my time on someone who doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. So shape up or ship out. You have until the end of your term to make up your mind."

Chase stared at House for a few minutes but he had returned to his magazine and ignored Chase so he eventually walked out of the office. He didn't know what to think or do. He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. When he had found out that his father had disinherited him, he hadn't tried to figure out the motivation behind that. He had just marked it up as one more disappointment from a father full of them. That was nothing new, nothing different, nothing that needed thinking or a new reaction – apart from learning to live on one's salary. True, he didn't need to react to this either if he didn't want to. He had his degree, he had his fellowship under House, and he could just leave and find a perfectly good job pretty much anywhere with his credentials. He didn't think House would bother to make things difficult for him. He could go on marking time if that was what he wanted.

Only he couldn't. House had kicked him awake and he had to deal with it. He would have to decide what he wanted because House would not let him just drift anymore. Knowing that he had got the fellowship because his father had pulled strings also put things in a different focus from what he had thought. It didn't much change his feelings about his father, but it did change things with House and about the fellowship. Things he had taken for granted had to be reassessed. House was right; he had let his father dictate his whole life. He had hated it, but he had gone along because it was easier than fighting. And he had got into the habit of doing what he knew his father wanted, even if only half-heartedly and only the minimum necessary to still give the impression that he was following the orders. But Rowan Chase was dead. He didn't want anything anymore. He could not give orders, express wishes or even disappoint anymore. He was dead. And Chase had to let go of him. House was right, it was time to take his father out of the equation and think what he, Robert Chase, really wanted to do with his life.


	36. Girl talk

Soo woke up with a start because Nellie had jumped on her bed. Nothing new or unexpected about that, really, since Nellie was completely unable to contain her curiosity for any length of time and Soo had been asleep the night before when Nellie finally got home. So now was the time of reckoning according to Nellie.

"So how was he?" Nellie asked without any further ado – and like the question was self-explanatory. Which it of course was, as Nellie was asking it.

"He sucked," Soo mumbled.

"What! No way," Nellie was shocked. "I refuse to believe that the man of my dreams would suck in bed. No way!"

"Well since I don't know what men you have had in your dreams, I cannot really comment on that," Soo tried to bury her head in her pillow. "But the man in my dreams sucked. Of course the reason for that could be that I was having a nightmare which ended with a ferocious beast attacking me in my sleep!"

"Oh, you," Nellie snatched the pillow from Soo and used it to hit her.

"Ouch!" Soo complained. "Why can't you just let me sleep? I'm sure I have at least fifteen minutes before I need to get up."

"No you don't," Nellie informed her. "You have to get up now or I will die of curiosity."

"If curiosity was fatal you would be dead at least seven times every day," Soo told her friend. "It's your permanent state of mind: dying of curiosity."

"Oh, please, pretty please," Nellie started to whine. "You have no idea of the rumours that have been flying around; you really have to tell me!"

"I think I have a pretty good idea of the rumours that have been making the rounds," Soo growled. "Dr. Cuddy came by to find out if there was any truth in them."

"Are you in trouble?!" Nellie was concerned.

"Of course not," Soo said. "I haven't done anything. Besides I got the impression that it was Dr. House who was on the firing line anyway. It was a good thing that I was able to account for my whereabouts for the night."

"Whereabouts?" Nellie sounded disappointed. "You mean you really stayed the night with Connie and the gang? You weren't with House?"

"No, sorry Nellie," Soo answered without the slightest regret. "I was not with Dr. House so I'm still right out of any details you would want to hear."

"Rats," Nellie pretended to be crushed with disappointment. "You don't have anything? Not even a kiss?" Suddenly she brightened. "Or second hand information? I mean you have been hanging around with him for three days now, surely you have seen or heard something."

"Nellie!" Soo sighed with resignation. "Put a sock in it. I don't know what Dr. Greg House is like in bed and I couldn't care less."

"I don't understand you," Nellie shook her head. "The sexiest, most interesting man in this whole hospital and you ... Are you blind or something? I know you are not a lesbian but there has got to be something wrong with you girl if those eyes don't do it for you."

"So far the only thing those eyes have done for me is petrify me! I swear he can read minds; and mine, he mostly finds wanting," Soo stated. Then she considered for a moment. "Though they are extremely intense..."

"There you go!" Nellie was delighted. "There is some hope for you yet, girl!"

"Not with Dr. House," Soo denied. "Just because I can sort of understand your fascination with his eyes, does not mean anything. He is not in the least interested in me – well in that sense, and I'm not interested in him."

"So what is the story then," Nellie asked, seriously for once. "You have avoided everybody's questions the best you can, but I'm not letting you out of this room before I get the answers. There are a lot more rumours going on than the one about the night before last. And if I'm to defend you I need to know."

"You can't defend me," Soo pointed out. "That's the thing about rumours. People who want to believe them believe them, no matter how many times you tell them the truth. And I have decided that I don't care. I know what I have done; I know what is going on, and the rumours ... people who believe them can go stuff themselves."

"Noble sentiments," Nellie agreed. "But very unpractical. I'm not saying you need to try and shut up the whole rumour mill, nobody can do that. But you need to tell your friends something, or else they won't know what to think."

"You may be right," Soo sighed. "I haven't wanted to talk about it because I don't know how I feel about it all. You have no idea what it is like! For the past three days the centre of my universe has been Dr. House and my Father. And it's scary and overwhelming and exciting and intense and exhausting and unbelievable. In this short time I have learned more about being a doctor than I ever imagined I could! Dr. House is a force of nature, and he drains you and invigorates you and he crushes you and yet, you learn more about yourself and your strengths and weaknesses than you though possible."

"Wow!" Nellie stared at her friend. "That sounds a lot more intense than any sex!"

"Well, it's better – and worse – than any sex I've ever had," Soo laughed.

"So how did you get him to take your Father as his patient, and why are you with him all the time?" Nellie asked.

"I told you that Father had an infarction, right?" Soo said.

"Yes. I know he had a heart attack," Nellie nodded. "I just can't see why that would interest House."

"It wasn't a heart attack," Soo corrected.

"No?" Nellie wondered. "What was it then? And how did you find out that it wasn't an infarction?"

"Nellie, Nellie, Nellie," Soo shook her head. "Are you really in medical school? Infarction is only heart attack when it happens in the heart! If it's in the lungs it's a pulmonary embolism, in the brain it is a stroke, you really should know all this. My Father's infarction was in his leg."

"Oh!" Nellie was puzzled. "That still doesn't explain why House got involved."

"House got interested because what happened to my Father was the same thing as happened to the golfer he told us about in_ The Lecture_," Soo revealed. "Dad went to Princeton General with leg pain, they gave him painkillers and sent him home; when the pain came back they took him in, but decided that bed rest and antibiotics would solve the problem. Mother didn't want to worry me, so Father had been in the hospital for three days before I heard of it. When I went to see him and heard what had happened I was sure there was more to it and I insisted that he be transferred here, to PPTH. House agreed to take the case because there is some bad blood between him and the doctor who was in charge of my Father's case in PG, and because Father absolutely refused to let them amputate his leg or remove the damaged muscle surgically."

"Oh, wow!" Nellie's eyes were like dinner plates. "You are telling me that House is now trying out that treatment they didn't finish with that golfer? And your father is the test-patient?"

"Yes," Soo nodded. "And that is not all. The reason House is having me with him all the time, the reason he tells me everything about my Father's treatment, tests and condition is because I have Father's medical proxy."

"Are you serious?" Nellie couldn't believe her ears. "You mean that you can put a stop to the treatment any time? That you can tell Dr. House: NO!"

"Nellie, I thought you liked him," Soo couldn't help but laugh. "You sound like he was some kind of mad scientist who was practising human sacrifice or something and like my Father were his victim and not his patient."

"Yeah, well, some of the stories you hear about him are a little wild," Nellie looked sheepish. "Like performing autopsies on living people, or giving people medicine for something he doesn't even know they have because waiting for the test results would take longer than he likes, things like that, you know."

"I know," Soo agreed. "But regardless of what you hear, the patients do matter to him. But the cases he gets are different, unusual. He is the _last doctor_, you know, like Spes."

"Spes?" Nellie was puzzled.

"The goddess of Hope in ancient Rome? Also known as the Last Goddess, because when all else had failed your sacrificed to her. You did watch Rome, didn't you? At least I remember you raving about the guys in leather skirts and all that. Or was that the only reason you watched it and to avoid distraction you watched it on mute?" Soo tried to jog her friend's memory.

"Yeah I watched it, but I don't remember things and details like you do," Nellie said.

"Well anyway, that's House. When nobody else has found the answer the patient is sent to him. Sometimes there is no time for tests but you have to start the treatment right away and hope for the best. Most times he seems to do pretty well with that approach." Soo defended her mentor. "Mind you, if you come across him at the clinic, it is a bit different story."

"I hear he is awful to the patients," Nellie was all for vivid details.

"He can be brutal," Soo had to agree. "It's like watching an accident happen. You cannot do anything to stop it and you cannot look away either. But even there he still makes sure the patients get the care they need. They just don't get the consideration they deserve. Well, not all of them. He is not too bad with kids. Their parents, though, don't fare that well."

"I really envy you," Nellie sighed. "That sounds so much more interesting than boring lectures and exams and papers."

"I know, and if my Father's life wasn't in danger, I would be truly grateful for this opportunity," Soo said. "Now, I'm not quite sure what I feel."

"I hope the treatment works, you know," Nellie gave Soo a hug. "He will come out of it ok, and I really, really hope that he gets his leg back."

"Thanks, I hope so, too." Soo smiled. "But I tell you, no matter what happens; returning to normal, to those boring lectures and papers will be difficult. Though it could be a relief, too. I'm not sure how long my health can stand the rollercoaster I've been on for these three days!"

"So you are coming back to the rest of us then?" Nellie wanted to be sure.

"Of course," Soo told her. "Once my Father is out of danger and no longer House's patient, there is no reason for him to keep me around. In fact, I'm rather surprised he has kept me around even this long."

"Maybe he likes you?" Nellie said hopefully.

"He doesn't like anyone," Soo dismissed the idea. "But maybe he thinks I have what it takes to become a doctor."

"Why wouldn't he think that," Nellie wondered. "You are one of the best students in our class."

"I don't believe that matters to him so much," Soo thought. "You can learn things, do well in tests and write good papers, but still not know what you are talking about. I think it takes more to be a doctor than knowledge. House has it. I don't quite know what it is, but he has it. The something."

"How do you know you have _it_ if you don't even know what_ it_ is?" Nellie sounded frustrated.

"I don't know," Soo pondered. She took a glance at the clock. "But what I do know is I better get going and fast or I will be late! Talk to you later."

"Ok," Nellie got out of the way. "At least I have now something to go on. You can fill in more details later. And try and find out something about HIM, you know, something interesting!"

"Sorry, Nellie," Soo laughed as she scrambled to get ready. "Not gonna happen!"


	37. Right again

Soo had got to the diagnostics room soon after the rest of the ducklings. Of course that was well before House was even expected to be there, especially since Mr. Park was their only case right then, but Soo still had plenty to do, as the "bigger ducklings" had decided to go through House's old cases with her and teach her what they could in the few days that she was around. House had come to work at his normal time and taken Soo to check on her father. Mr. Park's progress was promising: no cardiac arrests and tests showed that his body was handling the waste from the dead muscle cells without shutting down any organs. It was still not going to be a picnic for Mr. Park to come out of the coma the next day, but House was sure that normal painkillers would be enough by then.

After the visit to her father House had given Soo time off for couple of hours – mainly to talk with her family and make sure things were ok there, now that her mother had got the surgery she had wanted (or so she thought), and also to have something to eat and possibly spend some time with her friends before they all dispersed to their Christmas destinations. Soo was a little apprehensive about meeting her friends but obviously Nellie had had time to give a more detailed explanation about Soo's father to them – and Connie and her gang had confirmed her alibi for "the night", so though her friends were curious about everything that was going on they were mostly sympathetic because of her father. Of course Soo hadn't told anyone that House had referred to her as his "littlest duckling", and she wasn't going to! In such a competitive bunch of people as medical students were, friendship went only so far. There was no point in putting an unnecessary strain on it.

Soo was surprised that she had had time to actually finish her sandwich before the familiar whistle cut trough the cafeteria again. This time she didn't even bother to look up, just told her friends she had to go and stood up to follow House, who was already turning away from the door. Fortunately she knew that his destination was the clinic so she had no trouble following him.

"So what fun can we have today, Soo?" House said as they stopped at Brenda's desk at the clinic. "Charting could be a start? I believe we are supposed to make sure they are all up to date by the end of the year or something. Useless labour as far as I can see, but the paper pushers just aren't happy if they cannot push others to do it for them."

"Your charting is completely up to date," Brenda pointed out with a slightly gleeful gleam in her eyes.

"Are you sure?" House frowned. "It's not that long ago that you complained that I was about six months behind in my charting."

"The back log has been taken care of," Brenda informed him. "After all, you have been attending to your paperwork rather diligently for the past three days."

House turned to Soo who was not quite meeting his gaze. "I was not aware that we had been able to go through that many patients in such a short time." It was not quite a question, since House was very well aware that they had not gone through six months worth of patients at all.

"The number of patients you have in six months is not that large," Soo tried to explain. "After all, you don't see that many per day."

"True, true," House nodded affably – making Soo all the more nervous. "But I still think I would have noticed if we had gone through six months worth of patients. I'm quite sure of it."

"Well, I find charting interesting," Soo finally decided to confess, sort of. "And I like reading patient files, and since you had made some notes in them already and they weren't that complicated cases ..."

"You think you _broke the code_ and are able to read my notes?" House asked. Soo decided to remain silent. House turned to Brenda and asked for a few of his patient files - ones that Soo had done herself. He opened them, read them and turned to Soo pointing at something in one of them. "You didn't think that notation needed to be deciphered?"

Soo looked at the file, swallowed and decided to go for it – as she obviously was in trouble anyway: "Well, I didn't think it was necessary to chart that you had been forced to spend an extra half hour in explaining to the mother that the symptoms she had found on the internet did not fit her daughter's condition even the slightest."

"Getting a little uppity, are we?" House murmured. "I have to see what can be done about that."

"Dr. House!" Brenda tried to intervene. "You cannot make her miserable for having done your charting for you."

"That does seem a little unfair, doesn't it?" House pondered. "Well, I'll just have to make her miserable for no reason at all."

Brenda was on the verge of saying something to House but a new patient needed her attention. House remained standing by the desk as he went through a few more of the files Soo had deciphered – and correctly, drat the girl. Though he seemed absorbed by the files he was aware of the conversation between Mrs. Simon and Brenda. Once Brenda told Mrs. Simon to wait till she was called, House reached out for Mrs. Simon's file.

"She is not one of your patients," Brenda tried to stop him.

"And why would that be?" House raised his eyebrow at Brenda. "I wasn't aware that you could pick and choose your doctor on a free clinic."

"She is a nice lady," Brenda stated. "She deserves a doctor with better manners than yours."

"There is nothing wrong with my manners!" House put up his back with exaggerated indignation. "But your statement seems to indicate that Mrs. Simon has been diagnosed as a hypochondriac."

"She has been coming here about every two weeks ever since her youngest went to college," Brenda admitted.

"Empty nest syndrome," House concluded, reading the file Brenda had reluctantly given him. "Or at least that is what some lazy good for nothing doctor has decided at some point early on." House went on reading the file and then he stared at nothing for a moment drumming his fingers on the table. He obviously came to some conclusions. "Brenda, page Chase for me, tell him to get his butt down here stat."

Soo didn't dare ask anything so they waited in silence for Chase. Once he got to the clinic House pushed the file at him.

"What do you think?" House asked. "Read just the symptoms she has been complaining about, don't care about the conclusions the previous idiots have reached."

Chase read the file as quickly as he could while still making sense of it. "She has been here several times for different reasons, but they all seem to reoccur. Well, menstrual pain would, of course, but there are headaches, problems sleeping – which seems to be the reason for her being here today, too. She has suffered from irritable bowel a few times, strange numbness and tingling in her fingers and toes, unspecific pain, generalised pain, just aching all over for no apparent reason. ... Well, I cannot say with absolute certainty that the previous doctors have been wrong but this does read a lot like Fibromyalgia."

"That's what I thought," House agreed. "But I'm not the one with a world famous rheumatologist in my bloodline. Also Brenda seems to think that Mrs. Simon deserves someone with better bedside manner than mine – go figure. So she's all yours Chase. Take Soo with you, she can use the experience no matter what you find. Besides she doesn't actually need to be with me to do my charting now that she can read _Da Vinci_." House grabbed a file for himself and limped off.

"Da Vinci? What did he mean with that," Chase asked as he took Mrs. Simon's file.

"The code," Soo explained. "I have been doing his charting for him and was able to decipher some of his marking without asking him."

"Ok," Chase acknowledged. "Mrs. Simon! This way please."

----------------------------

House had just shown his first patient out – a simple case of a sinusitis - when Wilson came to see him. He looked depressed.

"If you want antidepressants you know where the psych ward is," House flipped at him.

"Very funny," Wilson wasn't in the mood to be amused. "I just came by to tell you, you were wrong."

"That would definitely be a piece of news that would make you go out of your way to deliver," House stated. "Though I doubt that it's true, whatever it is."

"You told me that I would not see Pam again until perhaps in a month or so when she would come by to tell me that she is moving to California," Wilson explained.

"Pam who?" House asked.

"Pam!" Wilson repeated. "Andy's mother!"

"Oh," House did not seem concerned. "I don't think I ever heard her name before."

"You didn't know her name?" Wilson wondered.

"I'm pretty sure it never came up," House told him. "But how do you know she will not be moving to California in a month's time? Did you check your crystal ball or something? Or did she promise to stay?"

"No," Wilson sighed. "She came by this morning to see the final details here and she told me that she is leaving in a week. She is going to her cousin in Washington State."

"Ah!" House nodded. "So you are telling me I was wrong about the time and the place but not wrong about her leaving?"

"Pretty much, yes," Wilson acknowledged. "I hope you are not going to say_ I told you so_."

"If you didn't want to hear that, why did you come to me?" House asked.

"Just... I ... Fine," Wilson gave in. "I wanted to see your reaction to the news."

"My reaction?" House was puzzled. "What did you expect my reaction to be?"

"I didn't really expect it to be anything," Wilson said. "I just wanted to see it. To see if it told me anything. I'm sorry House, but once it became clear that you had not had Soo in your bedroom that morning I came by with your parents, I did wonder if perhaps. Well, Pam had been missing, too. I'm sorry. If you didn't even know her name there is no way she would have been that intimate with you. I'm sorry."

"I have to point out to you that I do not know the names – or at least the real names – of all the women I have slept with," House decided to point out.

"I know, only too well," Wilson was slightly irritated. "But those were different kind of women."

"You have a point there," House agreed. "However I don't quite see how you became to suspect anything at all. I'm sure there were plenty of women unaccounted for that particular night, why suspect her having been the one with me?"

"No reason, really," Wilson sighed. "She was wearing a man's shirt the next morning, so she had been with someone. The only reason you came to mind, was because you had had company."

"She is a beautiful woman," House said. "There is no real reason to believe she has no men friends, even if her only priority in life has been Andie for a number of years."

"You could be right," Wilson nodded. "At least it seems that she is leaving him behind, too."

"She made it clear then, that she is moving west all alone?" House asked.

"Yes, she was quite clear about that," Wilson said.

They sat in silence for a while just letting their thoughts drift as they may.

"So what are you going to do for Christmas?" Wilson finally asked.

"I don't know," House gave a deep sigh. "I need to spend some time with my parents, a prospect that does not fill me with cheer. Other than that, I have no plans."

"I don't know either what to do," Wilson told him. "Perhaps we could do it together?"

"Yeah, that would be ok," House agreed. "You could come with me to whatever it is Mother has arranged and get some of the Fatherly pressure off me."

"I could do that," Wilson said turning ready to leave. "Let me know what your Mother has planned."


	38. Observations

_Oh dear, they did it again: went and invited new playmates! I will never get to the end of this story... and I'm supposed to have a life too, not just write fanfiction._

_Thank you for the reviews and questions, they have helped :)_

_-------------_

"He is useless!" Chase cried and threw the heavy volume away from him – nearly hitting House who had just entered the room, with Soo at his heels.

"Temper! Temper," House admonished Chase. "Soo, would you pick Chase senior from the floor and return him to the bookshelf. We may need him later."

"How did you know it was my father's book?" Chase asked.

"Well if you have a patient with Fibromyalgia you would naturally want to consult a Rheumatologist," House pointed out reasonably. "And since Rowan Chase had nothing to say about Fibromyalgia, you would find him useless."

"How can a Rheumatologist NOT have something to say about Fibromyalgia!" Chase was shaking his head.

"Not all doctors – even Rheumatologists – believe that the syndrome even exists, so why would they have anything to say about it," House said.

"It is estimated that Fibromyalgia can affect as much 5 percent of total population! That is five in every 100. How could anyone say it doesn't exist," Chase was getting agitated.

"There is no definitive test for it;" House found Chase's reactions interesting. "People who have it don't all have same or even similar symptoms when compared to each other; the severity of it varies greatly for no apparent reason; it affects mostly women and often gets labelled as hysteria or attention seeking. Let's face it there are still a number of illnesses that don't get the attention they deserve because majority of sufferers are women."

"But that is no reason to deny that it exists!" Chase sighed.

"From what little I know about Rowan Chase, denial was one of his strong suits," House observed dryly.

"He was an idiot," Chase huffed.

"He had a brilliant mind," House said. "But he also had obsessions that blinded him to the truth."

"And you don't have obsessions?" Chase turned to face House. Soo was beginning to feel she was at a tennis match – only nobody had told her the rules of this game.

"Truth is my obsession," House pointed out. "It may blind me to some other things, but they are not important."

"In my Father's estimation," Chase pronounced carefully. "He wasn't blinded to anything important either."

"Well, he was an idiot," House dismissed with a shrug – shocking Chase into speechlessness. "Anyway, how was Mrs. Simon?"

"Didn't Soo fill you in?" Chase tried to gather his wits.

"No," House limped over to pour himself some coffee. "She was busy with other things."

Chase looked questioningly at Soo who sighed deeply and told him, with a lowered voice: "He decided to speed diagnose. Fifteen patients in an hour, he would have done more but Brenda refused to send any more in. I did the charting."

"So we can probably expect a visit from Cuddy some time soon," Chase smiled. "She will want to know what is riding House this time."

"Hello, I'm still waiting for a report," House called from the sink where he was looking for sugar. "Or do you need to compare notes as to make sure your stories match?"

"No need to compare," Chase said. "Once Mrs. Simon was allowed to tell her whole story and describe all symptoms she had had and was having, it was fairly certain that she has Fibromyalgia. We tested the tender points – or twelve of them, but since all of them produced pain there was no need to do all eighteen. Of course we still have to do the exclusion tests, since she has had no tests done so far at all, but I shall be very surprised if we find some other reason for her condition."

"You are sure she wasn't faking it?" House wanted to know.

"Yes, I'm sure," Chase stated. "Since I had Soo with me, I asked Mrs. Simon if she would let Soo do the examination as she needed to learn. That way it didn't seem odd that we wanted her to tell us everything from the beginning again. Also when we looked for the tender points I didn't say we were expecting pain but that we were looking for pressure points – given Soo's ethnicity Mrs. Simon assumed we were looking some kind of acupuncture sites and she even tried to hide her pain because she was afraid Soo might get into trouble for having done something wrong."

"She is a very nice lady," Soo inserted. "Though she did seem depressed, I mean apart from the natural depression of being in constant pain."

"Depression is a normal symptom of Fibromyalgia," House said. "Often it is also accompanied with unusual irritability – though I have never understood what that means in a woman – but obviously Mrs. Simon has somehow avoided that."

"Why did you notice her, specially, at the clinic," Soo decided to ask. "What was so different about her? I'd really like to know."

"She moved with pain," House agreed to answer. "Yet she was complaining about being unable to sleep. Normally when people have pain they assume that that is the reason why they cannot sleep, yet she didn't mention pain at all. Either she had already been diagnosed with something that explained the pain but not the lack of sleep, or she had given up on mentioning the pain because nobody was listening. I just wanted to know which."

"In other words he played a hunch," Chase told Soo. "Regrettably he was right, as usual."

"Why regrettably?" Soo was puzzled.

"It throws his own inadequacies into sharper relief," House threw over his shoulder – he had finally found the sugar. "So what did you do with Mrs. Simon?"

"Admitted her," Chase said. "As I said we still need to rule out other possible causes, as well as to make sure she doesn't have any of the other problems that can occur with this, like Lupus. Also she is in pain, so we will need to put her on pain medication, and given the syndrome it may take time before we find the right one. And since stress aggravates the condition the last thing she needs right now is to be at home trying to make Christmas for her family."

"Or spend the Christmas with them at all," House flipped at Chase. "Nothing produces stress like spending time with your family. Especially if your family has been watching you suffer pain for two years and haven't cared a damn."

"What makes you think they haven't cared?" Soo wondered.

"Oh come on!" House looked at her like she was one cup short of a full cupboard. "Your Father was in pain for three days and you threatened to assault me with my own cane if I didn't agree to take care of him! This woman has been visiting a free clinic for ... what? ... two years? alone! And she is not from a poor family. Any caring husband would have been here after one month with a big fat check to Cuddy on the condition that his wife is thoroughly examined."

"You attacked him?" Chase looked at Soo with awed respect.

"I did not," Soo claimed. "I just said I would. Yes, I see what you mean, Dr. House. But it is possible that she didn't complain to her family. My mother never likes to let us know when she is feeling poorly."

"But you always do know, don't you?" House asked. "You care so you pay attention. Maybe when you were little you believed your mother when she said she was ok, but I would say that by the time you were fourteen or so you were able to tell if she was in pain or not, regardless of her words."

"That is true," Soo had to concede.

"Well, whatever the family is like, she is now away from them," Chase said. "And I better go and get some blood and other bodily fluids out of her for the tests."

"Soo, go with him," House instructed. "And you can check on Mr. Park on your way. You can stay with your father if you want, Soo, but you can also stay on Mrs. Simon's case. Even Chase might be able to teach you something."

----------------------

When Chase got to Mrs. Simon – after having checked up on Mr. Park who was doing as well as expected but Soo had still wanted to stay with him for a moment – he found that she had a visitor. Apparently Mr. Simon had been concerned enough to come and see his wife the moment he had been informed that she was in a hospital.

"Are you her doctor?" He asked the moment Chase walked in.

"Yes," Chase acknowledged. "I'm Dr. Chase. I'm here to start on the tests we need to do on your wife."

"Look," Mr. Simon came to Chase and put his hand on Chase's shoulder. "I understand that you are a young doctor and not that experienced, so there is really no need to feel embarrassed just because my wife got you conned into believing that she is ill."

Chase moved out from under the man's hand and went to stand closer to Mrs. Simon's hospital bed. "I'm not quite as young nor quite as inexperienced as you seem to believe. And unlike you, I have a medical degree. I can tell when someone is sick and when they are not."

"Ok, I admit she is sick," Mr. Simon tried to recover some of the ground he realised he had lost with his patronising approach. "But there is nothing you can do about it. She is addicted to painkillers. She goes from doctor to doctor trying to get prescriptions and if she can't she will buy anything that she can over the counter. She also smokes pot. If I could get her to go to rehab, that would straighten her out, but she won't go. It's like she just doesn't want to live a normal life. Like she wants to numb her whole body rather than face what she is and has done."

"I see what you mean," Chase agreed. "But one can hardly blame her for wanting to forget what she has done, as that includes marrying you. Now could you just leave me alone with my patient and go disturb the rest of your family."

"Now you look here," Mr. Simon did not find Chase's words funny in the least. "You have no right to keep my wife here for no good reason! I'm taking her home right now and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Unless you have documents saying that you are your wife's legal guardian and she is unable to decide for herself, she is not going anywhere unless she says so," Chase informed the husband.

"Right, then, Flora," Mr. Simon turned to his wife. "Will you tell this young man that you are leaving with me?" Without waiting for an answer he turned then to Chase. "And you will hear from us, I will report you to your superiors and you will regret your insolence."

"No, Richard," Mrs. Simon said. "I will not leave with you. I'm staying right here till I find out what is wrong with me."

"What?" Mr. Simon was astounded. "Don't be silly! You cannot sit here on your ass now! What about the party? The clients? Have you no consideration for me?"

"Right now I would not be of any use anyway," Mrs. Simon said tiredly. "I'm tired, in pain and quite frankly I couldn't care less what happens to you."

"I will not pay your hospital bill," Mr. Simon huffed as he turned to go. "See how long they will keep you here once they realise you are not paying your way!" He stormed out.

"Well that could cause some problems," Mrs. Simon said.

"This is a teaching hospital," Chase pointed out. "We do not expect all our patients to pay for their stay. And it is possible that your husband cannot refuse to pay, it depends on the insurance that you two have."

"I'm not sure what kind of insurance we have," Flora admitted. "He has always taken care of the finances. My Father didn't believe that women can understand money and business, so he was happy when I married Richard who could take over from him."

"So the business Richard is now in charge of was originally your father's?" Chase was making conversation while getting ready to take blood from his patient.

"Yes, Father handpicked Richard as his assistant. He didn't really expect me to marry Richard, but he was happy when that happened," Flora shrugged. "I was only 18 and thought that he was the man of my dreams. After three children and 27 years of marriage I wish I had had better dreams."

"People change," Chase agreed. "So your Father gave his business to your husband then?"

"No, no, he just left Richard in the charge of the company," Flora explained. "I inherited it all, but since I don't really know anything about money I let my Father's old lawyers take care of it all. And of course Richard is in charge of the company."

"Are you telling me that your actually own the company your husband works in?" Chase wanted the clarification. "And yet he tells you that he will not pay for your medical bills? That doesn't sound quite right."

"Come to think of it, no it doesn't." Flora agreed. "I have never really thought about it at all. I concentrated on the kids, on trying to keep the family together – though Richard has never been the faithful type. We have just been keeping up the appearances. But I wouldn't know what to do, how to go about changing things now."

"Do you know any other lawyers than the ones your Father left in charge of your inheritance?" Chase asked.

"No," Flora thought for a moment. "But I do know a legal secretary. She used to be my best friend in College and we still keep in touch. She works for a constitutional lawyer; Stacy Warner I think was her name."

"I know her," Chase smiled wryly. "She can really take a bite out of a man! I think you should call your friend and ask for her help. Even if her boss won't take your case she sure can recommend someone."

"Perhaps you are right," Flora mused. "I have to think about it."

Chase took his samples and left Flora to think on her own.


	39. Indian names

House was sitting in his office watching TV when his phone rang. He considered not answering, but since it was a commercial break he took the call. It was Cuddy.

"House," Cuddy went straight to the point. "I have a Mr. Simon in my office and he is somewhat unsatisfied with the care we are giving to his wife and he is also demanding an apology for the way her doctor spoke to him."

"Ok, that sounds like you have your hands full," House murmured into the phone. "But why are you calling me?"

"Don't try to play the innocent with me, I know you too well," Cuddy nearly barked. "Just get your butt into my office now or so help me..." And she hung up.

House put the phone down and stood up. He walked next door to check if Chase was there. He was, as were the other ducklings as well – even the littlest one.

"Chase, anything you need to tell me about Mrs. Simon? You know something about her visitors or anything?" House asked.

"Oh, ... I .." Chase stammered. "Well, she has decided to see what she can do about her husband and since her best friend is Stacy's legal secretary she thought ... I didn't suggest ... I mean she needs a lawyer... I didn't bring up her name!"

Interesting, House thought, I must remember to ask vague questions more often. Aloud he said: "Care to tell me more specifically how that came about? And also, your take on the husband in question."

---------------

Cuddy was actively fuming by the time House finally arrived in her office. She met him in the front room.

"I know you are a cripple but even for you it shouldn't take 45 minutes to get your butt here!"

"How would you know? Ever been a cripple?" House countered. "Besides I needed to get the facts of the matter first."

"What? You insult so many patients and their loved ones that you need to check your notes to see what you have said to each?" Cuddy snapped.

"That might be an idea," House pondered. "Though in this case I had nothing to do with any of the insults or anything, so I had to get the low-down from Chase first."

"Chase? Are you telling me it was Chase who insulted Mr. and Mrs. Simon?" Cuddy was surprised.

"And are you telling me that Mr. Simon came into your office saying a doctor had insulted him and you immediately assumed it was me?" House pretended to be deeply insulted. "You wound me, Cuddy, oh how you wound me!"

"Oh shut up House!" Cuddy sighed. "So not only has Mr. Simon waited nearly an hour for nothing already, I now have to ask him to wait some more while I get Chase in there. Just perfect!"

"You are not getting Chase down here," House informed her. "I came in his stead to tell Mr. Simon that we are right out of apologies."

"No, you are not going in there to ..." But Cuddy was too late. For a cripple who needed a cane House had learned to be very nimble when the occasion demanded. Cuddy had no choice but to follow.

"Mr. Simon," House greeted the man sitting in Cuddy's office. Mr. Simon was in his mid fifties, possibly nearly ten years older than his wife, dark hair, impressive stature and arrogance stamped all over him. House rather thought he saw the word _jerk_ tattooed on his forehead as well. Sure, House had one on his forehead, too, but unlike this piece of work House knew it was there. "I'm Dr. House. I hear you were unhappy with one of my doctors."

"Are you Dr. Chase's superior?" Mr. Simon asked.

"Who isn't," House flipped. "Oh! ... Did you mean am I his boss? Yes, to that, too. He explained the situation to me in detail. Just one thing I would like to get straight: did you really say you would not pay for your wife's medical bills?"

"She is in no need of medical care – or at least the kind of care you give here," Mr. Simon insisted. "So yes, I did say that. And I meant it. If she wants to buy attention from young doctors she can pay for it herself."

"Interesting attitude you have towards your wife," House murmured. "I would have thought a loving husband would have been a little more interested in first finding out what it is we think is wrong with his wife before deciding that she is faking it. After all, even hypochondriacs get sick for real sometimes, you know."

"If you came here to apologize on the behalf of Dr. Chase and to tell me you will see him disciplined for his conduct, you are not starting very well at all." Mr. Simon informed House.

"I know," House mourned. "But that's ok, since I didn't come here to do anything of the sort. What I did come here to tell you is that I totally agree with Dr. Chase's assessment of you. I support him in his decision to not apologize to you. Also I'm here to inform you that you are barred from visiting your wife until she tells us that she wants to see you. She has been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and the last thing she needs is more pain – especially in her butt. Which, come to think of it, is still pretty impressive even after you having hassled it for the last 27 years."

"Dr. Cuddy!" Mr. Simon was turning red. "Is this your idea of an apology? Is this how you treat all of your important clients? I'm in charge of one of the biggest businesses in this area and you will find out the influence I can have! I'm getting in touch with my lawyers the moment I leave here and you will be hearing from me!" He stormed out of the office though Cuddy did try to stop him and explain that House was not a doctor but a patient who had escaped from the mental ward and he had just stormed into her office before she could stop him. She gave up and returned to confront House.

"Have you any idea what you have done!" She yelled at House. "Mr. Simon owns one of the most prestigious businesses here and you have just made a mortal enemy of him! Would it really have killed you to apologize? Or better yet, send Chase here and do it – after all he was the culprit in the first place!"

"No, it wouldn't have killed me," House said making himself comfortable on Cuddy's couch. "But since I saw no need to be nice to him, I decided not to waste my time on trying."

"So you don't care that he is getting in touch with his lawyers even as we speak?" Cuddy fumed.

"No. In fact he should get in touch with his lawyers – if he has any, of course," House was enjoying himself greatly at Cuddy's expense.

"House," Cuddy sat down at her desk in defeat. "He could destroy this hospital!"

"No he couldn't," House decided to come clean. "You see he may act like he owned the world, but in truth he is just married to the woman who does. And she has just decided to divorce him, though he doesn't know that yet."

"What do you mean," Cuddy was interested.

"The company he runs belonged to his father-in-law," House told her. "His wife inherited it lock, stock and barrel. He is just the hired help. His wife has finally had enough of him, so she is getting in touch with a lawyer – even as we speak – and is starting divorce proceedings. And the lawyer she is getting in touch with is Stacy, so we can expect Mr. Simon to pay in blood for any insult he has ever given to his wife, and from what I hear they are numerous."

"He can still have a lot of influence," Cuddy warned House. "And he is getting in touch with his lawyers."

"His lawyers are probably the company lawyers," House pointed out. "And as his wife, the owner of the company starts the divorce proceedings the lawyers in question will have to refuse to represent him due to a conflict of interest. If the wife gives him the boot from the company as well as the marriage, he may find himself in need of a different kind of lawyer entirely."

"What are you implying?" Cuddy asked.

"Just that he has been allowed to play ducks and drakes with the company for a number of years now," House explained. "According to his wife he has always had affairs with other women, usually his secretaries, so I will be greatly surprised if he has been kosher in all his dealings there."

"Well I sure hope you have read the situation right," Cuddy sighed. "If she cancels the divorce or if there is a prenup, or he has more influence outside his position as the head of her company we can be in deep trouble! And we can still be in trouble even if he does nothing else but tell people how he was treated."

"By me," House told Cuddy. "Nobody will find it in the least surprising that I insulted him. It will not reflect badly on the hospital."

"You think it won't hurt the hospital's reputation that we have a doctor who practically goes out of his way to insult people?!" House's nonchalance left Cuddy nearly breathless with indignation.

"No," House insisted. "I have been doing it for years now. Whatever damage it has done to this hospital is already done. By now, it's old news."

"Maybe," Cuddy conceded. "But don't run away with the idea that I will let you do it with impunity! I will make you apologize when necessary."

"And when necessary," House stressed the word_ necessary_. "I will apologize."

-------------

When House returned to the diagnostics his ducklings were all still there.

"Nothing to do?" He asked as he went to get some coffee.

"Waiting for test results," Chase informed him.

"Having a break from sorting your mail," Cameron said.

"Foreman?" House prompted as there was no explanation from that quarter.

"I'm busy," Foreman told him. "I'm reviewing Mr. Park's case with Soo."

"Do I smell an article on the way?" House asked. "Have you cleared this with Cameron already?"

"He doesn't need my permission!" Cameron shrugged.

"I think I remember a big stink not that long ago because he hadn't got your permission to write one," House just had to poke.

"That was different," Cameron insisted. "We cleared that up and it's over and done with."

"So you have no interest in writing up Mr. Park's case?" House asked.

"Well, Eric has already started on it," Cameron tried to prevaricate.

"And of course you two couldn't even think of co-authoring something," House threw at them wanting to see what reaction he would get. Cameron and Foreman looked at each other with puzzlement.

"I don't know," Cameron said. "We approach things differently. I'm not sure if it could even work."

"It would be difficult," Foreman agreed. "But it might work if we do twin articles, you know, write each our own, but submit them together as two sides of the same case."

"And of course you could get Soo in it as well," House decided to play some more. "After all, it is not often that you can get a medical proxy who is also a medical student and can therefore comment on the situation from a position of knowledge."

"That could be interesting," Foreman pondered. "Would you want to try, Soo?"

"Me?" Soo was all eyes. "Of course, if you think I can."

"Of course you can," Cameron insisted. "And we will help, right Eric."

"Right," Foreman agreed. "So Cameron, Soo? Shall we see how it goes?"

As the trio made their agreement and started to plan the article Chase came over to House.

"You did that on purpose," Chase stated.

"Feeling left out?" House taunted mildly.

"No," Chase said. "I can write about Fibromyalgia if I want."

"If you want," House sniped. "You have never been big on writing articles, have you?"

"Why did you give Mrs. Simon to me?" Chase ignored House's question and asked one of his own.

"That sounds like slavery," House frowned. "I didn't give her to you. I just pointed you in her direction."

"Why? Because of the Fibromyalgia?" Chase asked. "Because you knew I would look up what my father had said about it and you knew he didn't say anything?"

"Possibly," House partly admitted. "Does it matter?"

"You are trying to push me, aren't you?" Chase demanded. "You said you didn't care if I go on with medicine or not, but you still push me into situations like this."

"I may not care what you choose to do," House explained. "But that does not mean that as long as you work for me I don't put you into situations that allow me to observe your reactions."

"You really are a manipulative bastard!" Chase accused.

"My Indian name," House agreed.

"Really? I thought your Indian name was: the man who used to live with Stacy." A new voice joined the conversation.

Everybody turned to see Stacy Warner stand at the doorway.

"Different tribe," House told her.

"Ah, yes, that would explain it," Stacy acknowledged.


	40. Easy doesn’t do it

_I really do have to start winding this story towards the end; so, sorry, but Flora has got to go – in a manner of speaking. I will just follow my original plan – more or less – and see if I can end this in 50 or so chapters. I have all sorts of four-letter-word kind of things to attend to like LIFE and WORK! But thank you for the reviews :)_

_----------------_

"Hi, Greg," Stacy said as she moved closer.

"Hi, Stacy," House responded a little breathlessly. Five years was a long time and a lot of memories and even though there had been a closure of sorts the last time they had spent time together Stacy still affected him when she appeared without warning.

"I understand one of your patients needs help," Stacy went on.

"Not my patient," House denied. "Mrs. Simon is Chase's patient. But she sure could use a lawyer."

"A good thing then, that I am one," Stacy pointed out. "Hello Chase, Foreman, Allison... I see you have a new member in your staff ... Hi, I'm Stacy."

"Soo Park," Soo said in her turn.

"Soo is just hanging around for a few days," House clarified – though not very clearly. "Stacy used to live with me a few years back, before she got married to someone else."

"I see," Soo's voice turned icy when she realised that Stacy was the "loved one" who had had House's medical proxy at the time of his infarction.

"Burr," House went. "That was an icy blast from the Orient!"

"Greg? You haven't ... I mean she is a medical student," Stacy was puzzled.

"No, it's not that, though the rumours are running amok," House denied. "Soo just has some strong opinions about medical proxies."

"She resents me for having saved your life?" Stacy huffed.

"Who doesn't," Chase inserted under his breath.

"I just think you misused your power, but it really is none of my business," Soo downplayed.

"It's easy to say when you are not the one who had to make the call," Stacy stated.

The other people in the room turned to Soo expecting her answer. They almost held their breaths.

"Perhaps," Soo said enigmatically. "But I was not brought up to go for the easy answer. Simple, maybe, since often simple is also the right answer. But not easy. You chose easy. You knew what his choice was, what he wanted, all you had to do was simply have his back while he was unconscious. But you chose easy, knowing that once you chose that you would not be around for long to face the consequences."

"You know nothing about it!" Stacy insisted. "It was the toughest choice I ever had to make."

"And you chose wrong," Soo said simply. "But that is just my opinion. I'm sorry; this is really not a conversation I should be having." She turned away and got some coffee for herself.

"Greg!" Stacy turned to House for support.

"She is entitled to her opinion," House shrugged. "But I'm sure you want to meet your client. Chase?"

"Yeah, I'm on it," Chase got ready to escort Stacy to Mrs. Simon. "Just follow me."

"Ok," Stacy said. "See you later Greg."

"I expect so," House responded.

-----------------------------

Stacy was quiet on their way to Mrs. Simon and Chase didn't see any reason to make conversation either. Just before they reached Mrs. Simon's room Stacy did ask one question.

"What was House like after I left the last time?"

"Pain in the ass," Chase said. "Just as always."

"That is all?" Stacy tried again.

"I don't spend my time analysing House," Chase pointed out. "To me he is either manageable or impossible. If he is impossible I don't analyse the degrees of it."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Stacy had to concede as they enterer Mrs. Simon's room.

"Hello, Mrs. Simon," Chase said as they entered the room. "I brought your lawyer with me. This is Stacy Warner."

"Goodness, you were fast!" Flora exclaimed.

"I was in the neighbourhood so when Candice called I was able to come over straight away," Stacy told her. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Flora said. "So do you think you can help me?"

"I think so," Stacy nodded. "I will try to get a general picture of what kind of legal assistance you need – besides the divorce as well, and then I can make my recommendations. My office has an excellent divorce lawyer so I think that is covered, but there are other things we need to think about."

"Like my health and how that might affect my abilities to make my own decisions," Flora agreed.

"Yes, that is one thing," Stacy stated. "I'm not quite sure what it is you have and how it might affect you. Can you fill me in?"

"I don't really know," Flora said. "I think it would be better if Dr. Chase explains it."

"We are not yet hundred percent sure that we have the right diagnosis, but everything so far points to you having Fibromyalgia." Chase explained. "The main problems are pain and fatigue. The fatigue is both physical and mental and that can make you occasionally unable to make your own decisions. The physical pain may be bad enough to cripple you and thus prevent you from physically taking care of your own affairs. So far the fatigue has not been a big problem, but we really have no way of anticipating how this syndrome will affect you in the long run. There are things we can do, drugs we can give you, nutrition and other recommendations that you can follow, but there is really no way to make this go away. The good news is that Fibromyalgia is not a progressive disease. This will not kill you, nor will it damage your organs in any permanent way. However, the bad news is that this is a chronic condition and I can give you no guarantee that it will get any better with time, though there is some hope."

"You are saying that on occasion she may need to give a power of attorney to someone in order to look after her best interest?" Stacy asked.

"Yes, I think that might be necessary," Chase answered. "Fibromyalgia is aggravated by stress and I cannot imagine that divorce could be anything but stressful. My recommendation is to make very clear what you want before you start the proceedings and then leave it in the hands of your lawyer. And Stacy, so that you know the sort of husband you are dealing with, Mr. Simon thinks his wife is an addict and he refused to meet her medical expenses."

"Just like that?" Stacy was surprised.

"Yep," Chase confirmed. "The moment I refused to discharge Mrs. Simon, he told me that he was not paying for her stay. He did not ask what I thought was wrong with his wife."

"That certainly sounds like something that we can use," Stacy mused.

"Anyway, if you have more questions about Fibromyalgia, just page me," Chase said. "Otherwise I'm leaving you to talk."

"Thank you Dr. Chase," Flora said. "You have no idea how important it has been for me to find someone who actually takes my symptoms seriously and listens to what I have to say."

"Mrs. Simon," Chase turned to tell her the truth. "I hope that I would have listened to you anyway, but the reason I took your case, was because my boss, Dr. House, took interest in you. He was at the clinic when you arrived and he saw that you were in pain. He is a curious man and he wanted to know why, so he told me to find out. I'm glad that he did take you seriously and I will do my best to take good care of you, but I have to tell you that it was Dr. House who found you, so to speak."

"Thank you for your honesty," Flora nodded. "I don't often meet people who are honest, it is quite refreshing. Please thank Dr. House for me, but thank him also for assigning you to my case. I think he made a very good choice there."

"Thank you, Mrs. Simon, I will tell Dr. House," Chase said and then he left.

"Right then, Mrs. Simon, let us get down to the nitty-gritty of what you need and want," Stacy suggested as they were left alone.

-----------

About two hours later Stacy was sitting in Cuddy's office drinking coffee with Cuddy.

"I think Mrs. Simon will be ok," Stacy told her friend. "The firm that is managing her inheritance is a reputable one and will absolutely take her side on this, even though they are also the lawyers to the business and have thus had a lot of dealings with Mr. Simon as well. The best part is that the man now in charge of Mrs. Simon's affairs is an old friend of hers, they went to school together."

"That sounds good," Cuddy sighed. "I'm beginning to think that maybe House didn't land us all in hot water with his insolence to Mr. Simon."

"From what I was able to find out from Mrs. Simon it is quite likely that Mr. Simon will himself be in very hot water very soon!" Stacy stated.

"So, did you see House? Or did you go straight to your client?" Cuddy asked.

"I saw House," Stacy admitted. "And the youngest member of his team, too. She wasn't too thrilled with me."

"Youngest member?" Cuddy was puzzled for a moment. "Oh, you mean Soo! Why didn't she like you?"

"According to Greg, she disapproves of my actions as Greg's medical proxy," Stacy huffed. "Like she knew anything about it."

"Actually she may be the one person in this hospital who does," Cuddy had to reveal.

"What do you mean?" Stacy asked.

"She has her father's medical proxy," Cuddy said. "House is treating him."

"Oh, I see," Stacy mused. "In that case she would have some idea, even if not from precisely a similar situation. What is House treating her father for?"

"Infarction," Cuddy said carefully. "Mr. Park was misdiagnosed in Princeton General and when he was finally transferred here he had had a blockage in his thigh for four days."

"What?" Stacy could hardly believe her ears. "Are you telling me that Mr. Park is an almost exact repetition of what happened to Greg?"

"Yes," Cuddy said. "The difference is that House is the doctor and he is following the patient's wishes. Mr. Park refused amputation or surgery. House is showing me how I ought to have treated his case. He is following Mr. Park's wishes exactly. And Soo is backing him one hundred percent. Even after Mr. Park went into a cardiac arrest and his wife, Soo's mother, demanded that we do the surgery, Soo refused to authorise it. Mr. Park is now in coma and they are bringing him out of it tomorrow. From what we can tell from the tests the treatment has been successful. The only question mark is will he have chronic pain or not."

"My God!" Stacy stared at Cuddy in shock. "You mean we were wrong?"

"Difficult to say," Cuddy said. "There are still things that can go wrong and if Mr. Park ends up suffering from chronic pain the end result may be pretty much the same. But I fear that we were wrong, though we did act with the best of intentions."

"He will resent us all over again after this," Stacy stated.

"I'm not so sure he has ever forgiven us in the first place," Cuddy shrugged. "His parents are here, you know. His mother has MG and Foreman is her doctor for now, until they find someone closer to their home. House has had trouble with his leg for some time now, and as you know he does not like people telling him what to do about it. His father ended up pushing him a little too far and House ended up telling him off. I overheard it."

"What did he say?" Stacy asked.

"He said that if it wasn't for us, he could be dead. And that he would much rather be that, than what he is now. He blamed us for not having had the guts to respect his wishes, for having decided for him what kind of life he was going to have. He pretty much implied that we did it to him out of spite, because we wanted our _pound of flesh_ from him." Cuddy recited painfully.

"Do you think he really meant it?" Stacy wondered. "He can say things he doesn't really mean when he is in pain and when he is pushed."

"I don't know," Cuddy had to say. "But I fear he did mean it."

"Was he right?" Stacy asked. "Did we do it for some other reason than what we thought at the time? Did we want to teach him a lesson, tell him not to be so stubborn? That life can be worth living even if you are not physically whole?"

"If those were our reasons," Cuddy sighed. "We failed. He is now showing us that we should have let him be stubborn and I have watched him these years to live the life we gave him, and frankly, I would rather be dead."

"But we cannot change it now," Stacy whispered. "We did what we did with the best of intentions, or so we thought at least."

"Well, you know what they say of _good intentions_," Cuddy said.

"Yeah, road to Hell," Stacy acknowledged. "And it seems we may have to travel it. I'll be staying around for a couple of days to help Mrs. Simon – Mark is away till Christmas Eve, so I have the time. I will just have to find for myself what Greg's feelings are about all this."

"Good luck in finding out," Cuddy gave a small laugh. "He has got even harder to understand than he was ever before. He won't let you in."

"If not, then I will just have to live with it," Stacy said. "I will let you know where I'm staying as soon as I have booked my room. Thanks for the coffee, Lisa."


	41. Busted

Next day, before noon, Soo was sitting with her father. Her mother and brother were present as well. They were waiting for House to come and start the process of waking Mr. Park out of his chemically induced coma. Soo was afraid. She knew that she had done her best, and she was sure her father would accept the surgery they had done, but there was still no telling how the treatment had actually worked. Yes, the tests looked good, yes the MRI showed that the muscle had already started to produce new cells to replace the dead ones and that physically they seemed to have saved the leg. But it would take a lot of therapy before they would know if the infarction had left Mr. Park with permanent weakness in his leg; and they were still completely in the dark about the pain. Soo had watched Dr. House closely these last days she had been in his company and she most definitely did not want her father living with the sort of pain she saw House deal with every day – even with the spinal injection of morphine she knew he had had. It almost broke her heart to watch; and if it was her father who was going through that pain, it really would break her heart – and it would destroy her mother.

House limped in with the rest of his ducklings. They checked the readings, the final tests and images and then House nodded to Foreman to start the waking up process.

"He should wake up in about half an hour," House told Soo and her family. "He will still be in pain as there are still dead cells in the muscle that need to clear out, but we can manage that pain with normal morphine drip. I would estimate that by tomorrow the process has finished and we can start assessing the damage that the infarction has caused. Of course we cannot know how much of the damage is permanent until Mr. Park has been through the rehab, but we should be able to make some educated guesses in a few days."

"But what about the muscle you cut out?" Soo's brother asked.

"We didn't cut that much," House explained, knowing full well that Kwan and his mother had been slightly misinformed about the surgery that had taken place. "We decided to take out only the most damaged part of the muscle which was less than ten percent of it. In my estimation that should not hinder his full recovery, provided the rest of the treatment has gone as we hope. Of course, the nerve damage is still the big question and that may alone be enough to cripple him regardless of the recovery of the muscles."

"But he will live?" Mrs. Park wanted to be assured.

"Barring any unexpected complications," House warned. "Yes, he will live."

--------------

Couple of hours later House stopped at Cuddy's office on his way to the clinic. Soo was not with him this time; she was busy with Foreman and Cameron.

"How is Mr. Park?" Cuddy asked slightly apprehensively.

"He came out of the coma without complications, his pain is manageable and tests look good so far," House told her. "It seems we were able to save his leg; provided that he doesn't end up suffering from chronic pain."

"In other words you were right and I was wrong," Cuddy sighed regretfully. "Had I followed your wishes instead of being so gung-ho about making sure you live regardless of the quality of life you would have, you would not be a cripple today."

"No point in beating yourself about that anymore, nothing you can do about it now" House shrugged a little uncomfortable with this vulnerable Cuddy. He then added with extra arrogance: "And I don't really blame you for not being as brilliant a doctor as I am."

Cuddy gasped. Was it even possible for anyone to be that full of himself? "House," she shook her head trying to find words. "There are days that even **I** wish I had let you die."

"Oh, don't you go all warm and fuzzy on me now," House admonished her coyly. Cuddy could not help she laughed.

"Am I forgiven?" She had to ask anyway.

"I never blamed you," House told her. "You are the doctor you are. I knew you didn't like my choice. You acted according to your nature."

"But Stacy?" Cuddy prompted. "Do you still blame her?"

"If she didn't live up to my expectations, is the fault hers or mine?" House seemed to be unwilling to give a straight answer.

"So you do blame her," Cuddy sighed.

"No, not anymore," House revealed. "I did for a long time, but not anymore. Sure it isn't always comfortable to have her around; there are scars – some of them physical." House indicated his leg. "But she, too, acted according to her nature. It is not her fault I put her on a pedestal that didn't quite fit her. Love is blind, after all."

"And now you are no longer blind, so you forgive her?" Cuddy suggested.

"Yeah," House replied shortly.

"But these days you also make damn sure you will never be blind again?" Cuddy questioned.

House snapped his back into attention and widened his eyes: "You are not working up towards a confession of undying love and devotion, Cuddy my girl?"

Cuddy sighed with resignation; apparently House was done with personal confessions for the day. "Though admittedly I'm not as brilliant as you think you are, I'm still not an idiot. Go do your clinic hours."

-----------------------

When House got back into his office after his clinic duty Stacy was waiting for him there.

"Do I sense a repetition of the conversation I already had with Cuddy?" House asked cautiously. "Because if that is the case, go and get the recap from her."

"I already did," Stacy confessed. "I just needed to see you to make sure that you meant what you said."

"I did," House confirmed. "I may be angry at being a cripple, but I don't blame you or Cuddy for it anymore. That's just the way things went."

"I understand that you and Soo managed to save her father's leg," Stacy said.

"Yeah, it seems that way, though it's not yet absolutely certain." House agreed.

"So she did a better job with the medical proxy thing than I did," Stacy sighed.

"She had more information to base her decisions on," House pointed out. "Besides this time I was the doctor, not the patient. Much easier to follow the case and make recommendations that way. Did Cuddy tell you that we did cut some of the muscle, too, only not that much."

"No, she didn't go into details," Stacy told him. "So even you saw some surgery was necessary? But your priority was to save as much of the leg as possible, when we just concentrated on saving your life."

"Look, stop torturing yourself with this," House decided to end the subject. "So I now have proof that the treatment I chose works, I have the satisfaction of having been right. But you did what you thought was best given the circumstances and the doctor in charge."

"Oh, so it's Lisa's fault, now? Because she wasn't good enough a doctor for you?" Stacy was indignant.

"She is a good doctor," House said turning to go and get some coffee for himself; Stacy followed him to the other room. "Just not in my league; not her fault."

"Sometimes your arrogance is just breathtaking," Stacy fumed, though she was smiling. House turned to say something to her but before he did, Wilson stormed into the conference room startling all the ducklings and Stacy, too.

"House, you bastard!" Wilson yelled and hit House. This time House did not expect it so he fell on the floor, full length. Foreman and Chase jumped Wilson pulling him back from their boss, while the ladies, - Soo, Cameron and Stacy – went to check on House. House, however, waved them away and lifted himself up to lean on his elbow. He decided that for the time being it was safer for him to stay down, until he found out what was bugging Wilson – though he did have his suspicions. There weren't that many things that would produce this reaction from Wilson.

"This is getting into a habit with you, Jimmy," House remarked from the floor. "A very bad one, I might add."

"How, dare you," Wilson fumed. "Let go of me Chase, Foreman." After some hesitation they did let go of Wilson, but backed only a step or so, just in case. "You dare to say anything about my _bad habits!_ You... You have no decency, no honour, no ethics..."

"I have a feeling I have had this conversation with someone already," House mused from the ground. "How many times do I have to say it: I am not hustling any medical students, Soo least of all!"

"What is going on?!" Stacy asked exasperated. "Why would Wilson think you are involved with Soo?"

"I know he is not involved with Soo," Wilson snarled.

"Then what is your problem?" Foreman asked.

"My problem is the woman he is involved with," Wilson snapped.

"I'm not involved with any woman right now," House denied. "And even if I was, I really cannot see how that would be your business."

"Not even when it is a patient?" Wilson pointed out.

"You are involved with your patient?" Stacy looked disgusted.

"No, I am not, nor have I ever been involved with any of my patients," House stated deciding it was time to get up. Cameron refused to help – she too seemed disgusted with him – but Soo came to the rescue helping him up and giving him his cane. House limped to the coffee machine. He didn't pour any coffee for himself yet, just leaned against the counter.

"Really," Wilson asked. "Does this refresh your memory?" He took a button out of his pocket and showed it to House. "Or this?" Wilson also produced a letter that was addressed to House in feminine handwriting. The letter was closed.

"No, can't say that they do," House denied. "Why do you think they would?"

"Because they are from your apartment," Wilson explained. "I went there to get those DVDs I had loaned to you, while there I stepped on the button. I was not sure where I had seen it before, but I was sure it was no good news to find it in your bedroom. On my way out, just in case, I checked your mailbox and found that letter. I recognised the handwriting and when I saw it I also remembered where I had seen the button before. You disgusting son of a bitch!"

House was silent for a moment. He considered denying everything – after all, he really did not recognise the button or the handwriting, but Wilson did, and the items really could not belong to anyone else but Andie's mother. House sighed, better just face the music.

"That still doesn't change the fact that she has never been a patient of mine," House repeated.

"Her daughter was, same difference," Wilson insisted.

"No, her daughter was your patient, not mine," House pointed out. "True, I did consult in the case, but that was over a year ago."

"Andie? Andie's Mother?" The penny dropped for Cameron. "You ... She was in your apartment that night? That's... How could you!"

"Would someone explain this to me?" Stacy demanded.

"A few days ago a patient of mine died," Wilson enunciated carefully. "An eleven year old girl. The same night, House here, took advantage of the girl's grief-stricken mother and hustled her into his bed. I happened to visit him next morning and found out that he was hiding someone in his bedroom, but it never occurred to me that he could go so low."

"Hey, I'm a man," House shrugged. "What did you expect me to do when a gorgeous red-head appeared at my doorstep in the middle of the night? Send her packing?"

"Yes," Stacy asserted. "That is exactly what you should have done. Call a cab and send her home! Any decent man would have done that."

"Now that is where your thinking is all wrong," House explained. "The words _decent_ and _man_ don't really go together. Not in real world. Besides I did call her a cab, I just did it the next morning."

"You are disgusting," Wilson turned to go. "I cannot imagine what she must be thinking and feeling right now."

"Maybe she is saying some of it in that letter," Stacy wondered.

"It's private," House insisted. "Give it here."

"No, I think I want to see what kind of damage you have done," Wilson refused. He took the letter and opened it. House wasn't fast enough in trying to snatch it from him. There was no letter, just a 20 dollar bill and a small card that said: Thank you.

"Damn," House broke the silence that had ensued. "I was sure I was better than that."

"Thank you?" Chase read the card aloud. "She doesn't sound too upset, though the tip is measly."

"Shut up," Wilson told him. "You are just like House!"

He stormed out.

"Does this mean the Christmas plans are off?" House called after him.

"Hanukkah!" Wilson shouted back. "And you can go to Hell!"


	42. Hell hath no fury?

"Cameron, go after him," House instructed accepting an instant cooling pack from Soo and placing on his jaw. "Go after Wilson, check his hand – yet again – and make sure he doesn't try to contact Andie's mother over this."

"Why would I do that?" Cameron asked. "It's not my place to clean up your messes."

"But you care," House simpered. "Besides, you can say whatever you want about me, just see to his hand and make sure he stays away from Pam."

"And who are you to decide who he talks to?" Cameron was belligerent.

"Nobody, but I have spoken with her after the ... night," House agreed to explain. "As far as she is concerned the matter is over and closed. Besides, if you were in her place would you want to talk about it? With anyone?"

"Fine," After a small hesitation Cameron flounced out of the room towards Wilson's office.

"I have to go check some test results," Foreman decided turning to go.

"Yeah, me too," Chase agreed and followed Foreman with equal speed.

"The courage of my ducklings is truly astounding," House sneered pouring himself some coffee. "Except this, the littlest of them all." He added looking at Soo. He took a sip from his drink and then went on. "As a rule, it is advisable to stay away from all patients, no matter whose they are."

"I will keep that in mind, sir," Soo stated.

"If that is your advice," Stacy inserted. "Why didn't you follow it yourself?"

"Come on, you know me," House shrugged. "I always give advice that I don't follow myself."

Stacy gave a deep sigh; there was no talking to the man. She turned to Soo. "I heard about your father. Ahm.. I'm sorry about having been a bit abrupt with you yesterday. I ... I'm glad he is ok."

"Thank you," Soo accepted. "We don't know yet for sure if he has come through this completely well, but so far so good. And I may have been a little tactless, too, yesterday. It's just that the subject is still fresh to me. It really was not my place to criticise your decision. Though the cases are similar the situations are different."

"Ok, now that we have all this sugary sweetness and light out of the way and you two are each other's new bestest buddies," House snarked, "do you think we could change the subject? Like to was there anything else you needed from me, Stacy?"

"No, there wasn't," Stacy said. "I was just killing time while I waited for Mrs. Simon to come back from her scans and whatever the tests were she was having."

"How is her case going?" House asked. "The legal one, I mean. The medical one I know about."

"It's going ok," Stacy nodded. "This is only the beginning, of course, but I have been in touch with her father's lawyers, the will checked out as having been completely in her favour excluding any rights her husband might have in her inheritance. Her father had also made sure she had a prenup stating pretty much the same thing. She will be ok, and he will be toast. And I'm sure you are happy to hear that she has a medical insurance all her own so you can take care of her in the style her father intended."

"That is definitely good news," House agreed.

"Anyway, I better go and work my magic," Stacy got ready to leave. "I know it isn't as dramatic as some of the magic you perform, but I think it is still pretty impressive."

"It certainly always impressed me when I was allowed to observe," House acknowledged as Stacy left the room.

"So how is the article going?" House then turned to Soo.

"Eric and Allison are kind enough to say that I'm doing well," Soo bit her lip in indecision. She wasn't sure if House wanted her to tout her own horn or be modest.

"Well, if they are letting you call them by their first names, then it must be going just swimmingly," House parodied. "Modesty doesn't get you anywhere in any profession. Mind you, neither does unfounded pride either. Learn to know yourself, to assess your own accomplishments and once you know you are good, let others know it too."

"I don't know enough yet, to know if I'm doing well," Soo admitted.

"Then learn!" House ordered. "By the way, I had a word with Dr. Cuddy, and she agrees that this article can take care of your ethics course, since you have missed these last lectures and was not present when Dr. Sleazy gave the subjects for the final essays. You won't need to go and see him in his office over it."

"Doctor?..." Soo was not sure she had heard correctly.

"Dr. Clease has oozed his way through these corridors for too long for anyone to be unaware of his nickname," House observed. "Also it is fairly difficult not to see that all female students – as well as nurses, doctors and anyone in skirts working in this hospital – makes sure they never get within arm's reach of him."

"Oh," Soo didn't quite know what to say. "I see. Well, thank you for helping me with the essay."

"Don't mention it," House said with exaggerated politeness. "Now get out of here. Foreman probably went to see your father, go after him."

-------------

Later that afternoon House was standing outside when he heard someone enter his office. He went back inside and found his mother waiting for him.

"Mother," House greeted her. "Alone again?"

"No, I'm not," Blythe told him. "Your Father is in the cafeteria holding a table for us."

"Us?" House repeated with some dread.

"Yes, us," Blythe confirmed. "You cannot avoid him forever, so just come with me now and get it over with. I will try and take care of the conversation. All you need to do is try and look like you didn't wish you were a hundred miles away."

"That may take all my acting skills," House observed.

"Please, Greg?" Blythe asked.

"Anything for you Mother," House capitulated. "I will even try and come up with something resembling an apology for the last time we met."

"Thank you," Blythe said. "And if you cannot say it, I will understand."

"You know me too well, Mother," House had to laugh.

"I've known you all your life," Blythe pointed out. "It would be little difficult not to know you."

"Dad seems to have succeeded quite well," House reminded her, though this time without any acrimony.

"Now, Greg," Blythe warned him. "Don't start that just before you have to meet him. You just work yourself into a bad frame of mind."

"True. Now, tell me, how are you? Any news?" House asked.

"We only saw yesterday, and I'm sure Foreman gives you daily reports anyway, so no, no news."

"Except that Foreman cannot tell me what your mental state is, nor did you sleep well last night, or didn't feel like eating this morning, you know, things like that," House pointed out.

"Greg, I am not a child. You do not need to watch my every step," Blythe admonished. "Your Father is already doing that and I don't need any more watchdogs."

"Ok, fine. I will curb my worry," House relented. "So, any plans for Christmas that I need to know about?"

"Christmas dinner," Blythe told him. "We have ordered it to be delivered to our flat and you will attend. I have already asked Lisa to come and I will invite your ducklings to it as well, though I will make clear that it is not a command performance so if they have different plans, that's ok. And I will invite Wilson too, of course."

"Ahh, about Wilson," House grimaced. "There might be a problem there."

"How? Have you two fought or something?" Blythe wondered. "Come to think of it, is that a bruise on your jaw again?"

"Yes. Wilson and I had a bit of a difference of opinion, again," House confessed.

"What about? He hasn't found out about...?" Blythe worried.

"Yes, he found out about that," House said. "He stopped by my flat today to pick up some DVDs and he found a button. Unfortunately he has a bit of an eye for details like that and so he recognised it. He stormed into the diagnostics, floored me and there was really nothing I could do but own up. He was not a happy camper."

"Oh, dear," Blythe sighed. "But I cannot _not invite_ him just because he thinks you have behaved badly. Oh, well, I'll just invite him and it's up to him to come or not."

"Even if you can persuade him to attend, it can get a bit strained," House remarked.

"True, but since it is going to be a bit strained anyway because of you and your Father, I don't think it will make much of a difference," Blythe smiled at her son.

"There is that," House nodded as they arrived at the cafeteria and made their way to the table where John House was waiting for them with sandwiches and coffee.

-----------------------------

The meeting with his parents had gone surprisingly well. House had managed to mutter a few words that could be interpreted as an apology to his father, who in turn had decided to interpret the words as one and had accepted it. After that they both mostly followed Blythe's lead and the meal had gone pretty much the same way most of the meals had gone at home, when Greg was still a boy. They had finalised the plans for Christmas dinner and House had faithfully promised to be there – barring dying patients, of course. It hadn't been too bad – but it did remind House why he had chosen to move out of home as soon as he had been able to.

House was back on his balcony – carefully avoiding looking towards Wilson's office on the other side of the dividing wall – when again he heard someone enter his office. He went inside to find Cameron there, this time.

"Burr," He said. "Perhaps I should go back to my balcony, the temperature inside seems a lot colder than out there."

"You will be happy to know that Wilson's hand is fine," Cameron said in clipped voice. "No permanent damage."

"Excellent," House accepted the news with nonchalance. "Did you tell him that as a doctor he ought to be more careful of his hands?"

"Yes," Cameron dropped the word like a stone. "I also managed to convince him that contacting Andie's mother over what had happened was not a good idea."

"Thank you," House said with sincerity.

"What were you thinking of!" Cameron exploded. "A patient!"

"Not mine," House answered with some warning in his voice.

"Maybe not, but the whole situation! Exploiting her vulnerability like that? How could you," Cameron looked at him like her whole world had collapsed.

"Cameron. You can judge me any which way you want, but do not, I repeat, do not expect me to explain myself to you. Especially not about my private life." House stated firmly.

"But this is not just your private life," Cameron insisted. "What you did overlaps with your work."

"Take it to Cuddy, then," House advised.

"I don't want to get you into trouble," Cameron denied. "I just cannot understand why you would do something so wrong."

"What is it that bothers you so much," House went on attack. "Is it the fact that I was with a woman – other than a prostitute? Or other than you? Does it bother you that this might actually prove that I'm not alone because I'm a miserable cripple in need of the _right woman_, but that I actually choose to be alone? Or do you find it offensive that I might be capable of giving comfort? That I just choose not to give it to you? Are you really angry at me because you truly believe I've done something wrong, or are you just plain jealous as all Hell? Only you cannot show that because it would be so petty to resent a woman who has just lost her only child, and that kind of negativity does not fit the image you have of yourself."

"How dare you," Cameron spluttered.

"Why shouldn't I dare?" House questioned. "You dare question my motives and deeds. What is good for the Gander is surely good for the Goose, too."

"I'm just concerned for the ethics of the situation, that is all," Cameron tried to defend herself.

"Sure you are," House sneered. "Ethics is always a big concern with you, except when it comes to co-workers having sex with each other."

"That was uncalled for!" Cameron gasped.

"No it wasn't, this however is uncalled for," House's hand snaked out grabbed the back of Cameron's neck, pulling her close enough for House to kiss her. It was short, and forceful but not savage nor hurting as such. When it was over House let go of her and closed his eyes. "When are you going to stop hurting yourself against me," he asked quietly. Cameron ran.


	43. Explanations

Cameron ran to her lab, as usual. She couldn't get House's voice shut up in her head, mainly because she had to admit that there was truth in his words. Granted she hadn't thought so at first, she really had convinced herself that the ethics of the situation were the only reason for her reaction, but having heard her motives doubted out loud, she had to question them herself, too. And there was more than a kernel of truth in the doubts House had thrown at her. She didn't seem to get over her obsession with him. She couldn't understand why not! Ok, he had just kissed her and she was sure he was attracted to her- or at least her body, but he had never shown any feelings towards her. He was a jerk – he was the first one to admit it. He was abrasive, callous, insensitive – to the nth degree –, totally selfish, arrogant, egocentric, and bloody brilliant! He didn't give her any encouragement to keep her feelings alive, quite the contrary, but they just wouldn't die. Every now and then she thought they had died, but then, when she wasn't paying attention there she was again: mooning over the manipulative bastard. She really, really needed to get a life.

When Cuddy walked into the lab, Cameron was doing busy work, arranging equipment, checking supplies and generally trying to keep from thinking too deeply.

"How is Wilson?" Cuddy asked. "Stacy came by and told me what happened."

"His hand is ok," Cameron said. "Emotionally he is not doing that well. He is still depressed over Andie's death and now, to find out what House did –, now he can't even get comfort from his best friend."

"Damn," Cuddy swore. "I was hoping he wouldn't find out."

"You knew?" Cameron was astonished.

"I found out yesterday," Cuddy admitted. "Pam came to the hospital to take care of the last details before she moves to Washington State. When here, she heard the rumour about House and Soo, so she came to see me and told me what had really happened. Just in case House was getting in trouble over something he hadn't done."

"Did you confront House about it?" Cameron asked.

"No reason," Cuddy pointed out. "It was a private matter, nothing to do with the hospital."

"Her daughter was a patient here," Cameron was puzzled at Cuddy's attitude.

"But not House's patient. There was nothing ethically wrong in what they did. It was purely a private matter."

"You have no problem with House having taken advantage of her vulnerability?"

"Oh! I see," Cuddy suddenly understood. "House didn't explain then what had happened."

"No," Cameron started to doubt that Wilson – and her – just might have got the wrong end of the stick (or cane, as the case may be). "He refused to explain anything. He didn't even deny anything, just said it was none of our business."

"Well, he does hate explaining himself," Cuddy agreed. "But no, he did not take advantage of anyone. Pam was the one who went to his place and she was the one who, ... well, she asked him to, ... you know. He just complied."

"Oh," Cameron was stunned. "I see. So he didn't really do anything, well, like... He just. That does not sound like House."

"Tell me about it," Cuddy invited. "I was almost too stunned to understand what she was telling me. Especially as she told me that she was grateful to House for having been so _kind_! But I have no choice but to believe her. She was there; she has to know what had happened. Besides, though House is a jerk, he really has never been _that_ kind of jerk."

"Yeah, I suppose," Cameron agreed quietly.

"Cameron?" Cuddy gave Cameron a searching look. "Are you ok?"

"Apart from feeling stupid, yeah." Cameron answered.

"You confronted him about it, didn't you?" Cuddy sighed.

"Yep. And it didn't go well. He saw it as an invasion of his privacy – which it obviously was, and he accused me of jealousy." Cameron explained. "And the punch-line of the joke is that he was right."

"Oh, Cameron," Cuddy gave the younger woman a hug.

"I know, I know. I really should get over it already!"

"Look, obviously you cannot choose who you love, nor can you choose to stop loving someone just because you know it can't work. But you can choose what to do about it." Cuddy comforted her. "Concentrate on your career, find a hobby or a cause or find someone else to love. Stacy did."

"She might have found someone else to love, but she still loves House, too," Cameron pointed out.

"True," Cuddy admitted. "But if she stays away from House she can be perfectly happy with Mark."

"Only she cannot stay away from House, can she?"

"Apparently not," Cuddy had to concede. "But she did for a number of years, so she has done it, she can do it she just needs to try harder. I know it is more difficult for you since you work for House, but you need to find a way to deal with your feelings before they destroy you. Emotionally I mean."

"That's what he said. Or more precisely he asked when am I going to stop hurting myself against him." Cameron revealed.

"Good question. You should try to find an answer to it. Other than just cleaning the lab!" Cuddy teased Cameron a little and was rewarded with a small smile.

"Yeah, you have a point there. I have a feeling that this hospital doesn't have enough labs for me to clean unless I get a handle on this thing called love. I better go and find Soo and Foreman so we can work on that article of ours."

----------------

House had been right about Foreman. Soo found him with her father. Mr. Park was doing pretty well. The pain was easily managed with the morphine drip and they had even been able to go down on the amount of morphine needed. He was tired, though he joked that he couldn't understand why having just been asleep for days, but his spirits were up.

"Hi, Dad," Soo said as she bent down to kiss her father on the cheek.

"Hello daughter," Mr. Park smiled. "Dr. Foreman tells me you have been very busy these last few days, first following Dr. House and now writing an article with Dr.s Foreman and Cameron."

"They have been very kind to me," Soo acknowledged. "Especially Dr. House, who kept me thoroughly informed of your situation and allowed me to observe his work otherwise as well. It has all been very beneficial for my studies."

Foreman's eyebrows had gone straight to his hairline (had he had one) when he heard Soo call House kind, but he decided not to comment on that. Instead he said: "Soo shows promise. We all think she will make an excellent doctor one of these days."

"I have always been proud of my girl," Mr. Park nodded. "I am glad to hear it is not just a parental bias but that others think so too."

They talked some more, but Mr. Park soon fell asleep and Soo and Foreman headed back to the diagnostics.

"Soo," Foreman approached the subject cautiously. "The scene you witnessed between Wilson and House. I'm not sure what you thought of it, but ..."

"Dr. House already advised me that in general it is better not to get involved with patients, not even those who are not yours." Soo said.

"That is definitely good advice," Foreman agreed. "But about what happened between House and Andie's mother. I know House is nor someone you understand easily, nor can you get to know him unless he lets you, but what I know of him... In short, I'm sure Dr. Wilson did not have the full story. What he suspected of House doesn't sound like House, not quite. There has to be more to the story than what Wilson thought."

"Well, as she was not his patient and she was the one who went to him, it seems to me that nothing unethical happened, from professional point of view. So whatever happened, it is none of my business. Nor anybody else's either."

"My sentiments exactly," Foreman agreed. "I just wanted to make sure you understood that Dr. Wilson was wrong in accusing House of unethical behaviour. Well, in this instance at least."

"Are you telling me Dr. House has done unethical things before?" Soo asked with interest.

"Well," Foreman wished he had guarded his tongue better. "House can get a bit obsessive about the answers and sometimes he doesn't care what methods he has to use to get them."

Fortunately before he had to elaborate they reached the diagnostics room and had to drop the subject as House was in.

-----------------

On her way back to the diagnostics Cameron decided to check on Wilson. She was sure she had managed to persuade him not to contact Andie's mother, but especially in the light of the new information she had got from Cuddy, she wanted to make sure. Wilson was sitting at his desk staring at the wall.

"Hi," Cameron greeted him cautiously.

"Hi," Wilson sighed.

"Want to talk?" Cameron asked.

"Not really," Wilson denied. "But I suppose we have to find a way to get over this. I know you are as disappointed in House as I am, but we both still have to work with him."

"Actually, right now I'm more disappointed at myself," Cameron confessed. "I had a talk with Cuddy."

"You told her about House?" Wilson was surprised. He knew Cameron disapproved of what House had done, but to rat him to Cuddy – he had thought she still liked him too much.

"No, she told me," Cameron corrected him. "Stacy had told her about your visit and Cuddy came to see me to ask how you were doing. And while we talked she told me that Andie's mother had come to see her yesterday."

"She made an official complaint about House!" Wilson gasped. "Why hadn't I heard of it?"

"No, she didn't complain about House," Cameron explained. "She had heard a rumour about House and Soo and she wanted to make sure Cuddy knew they were not true. She defended House."

"Even after what he had done?" Wilson started to sound unsure.

"According to Cuddy, she claimed to have been the one who did the seducing, not House."

"Really?" Wilson didn't know what to think, how to react. It begun to seem that reality was very different from the conclusions he had jumped to.

"Really," Cameron sighed. "You can imagine how I felt when I realised I had misjudged him. Especially when I realised the main reason for it had been that I was jealous."

"Yes, I see," Wilson said quietly. "I need to think about this, I can't process this right now."

"Ok, I just wanted to let you know the truth, just in case you decided to get in touch with her, after all. It could have been awkward, given the circumstances." Cameron concluded getting ready to leave Wilson alone.

-------------

House stood on his balcony again. He was thinking of going home, but didn't seem to be able to shift himself. He heard Wilson's door open but didn't look around until Wilson spoke.

"House," Wilson didn't quite know how to open the conversation.

"Wilson?" House turned to face his friend.

"Cuddy spoke with Cameron and Cameron spoke with me and ... I'm sorry."

"You know how I feel about apologies, don't you?" House reminded him. "At least the ones that are not accompanied by food."

"I could get some take-away and come over to your place to watch TV," Wilson took the hint.

"That sounds better," House smiled.

"You really hate apologies, don't you?" Wilson stated.

"Yep."

"Even when you get to rub my nose on the fact that I was wrong?"

"Yep."

"So if I bring food, we are ok?"

"Yep."

"Fine."

"You do know that the main reason you were angry was because she came to me, not you?" House ventured.

"Yep." Wilson acknowledged dryly.

"It had nothing to do with you, you know," House said. "I just seemed to her as the more likely to accept the offer."

"Yeah, maybe." Wilson sighed.


	44. Doctor’s choice

Next morning, the 23rd of December, Stacy visited Cuddy on her way to see Mrs. Simon.

"So, how is your case going?" Cuddy asked.

"Actually, not my case anymore," Stacy said. "Not after today."

"What do you mean?" Cuddy was surprised.

"I have gathered the preliminary information that my firm's divorce lawyer needs, I have consulted with the firm that handles Flora's inheritance and matters involved with that, and we have sorted out all the details that need to be taken care of," Stacy told her. "I have done what I came here to do and I'm going home later this afternoon."

"Mark must be happy to have you back," Cuddy remarked.

"He won't be home till tomorrow morning," Stacy avoided the real question.

"But he must still be happy when you don't need to be near House any longer," Cuddy repeated.

"Yes," Stacy admitted. "I have spoken with him on the phone every evening. Though he is no longer paranoid about Greg, he is still not comfortable with me spending too much time with him."

"Given what happened the last time, I'm not surprised," Cuddy pointed out.

"Mark doesn't know what happened last time," Stacy confessed. "Or, he knows something went down, just not what. I did tell him that some of the old feelings were messing up my mind but that we had talked, Greg and I, and we had got closure on them. Not exactly a lie, though not quite the truth either."

"And you think he never suspected that you had sex with Greg?" Cuddy doubted.

"I'm sure he suspected, but he chose to believe what I told him," Stacy said with some guilt. "I know I should have been honest with him, but I didn't want to hurt him for no good reason."

"Oh, Stacy, Stacy, Stacy," Cuddy shook her head. "Your really need to stay away from House."

"I know, that is why I'm wrapping up my involvement with Mrs. Simon," Stacy explained. "Mind you, I don't think Greg would want me around either. Not now when we all know that I was wrong when I insisted that you do the surgery."

"I was the one who suggested it," Cuddy pointed out. "You would not even have known of the option had I not told you about it, so don't go thinking that you forced me into anything. I was quite in agreement with you over it."

"Yeah, and we were wrong," Stacy didn't look too happy. "Before I could tell myself that at least I had saved his life. Now I cannot be so sure. It could have worked as well for him as it is working for Mr. Park."

"We cannot know that," Cuddy said. "He was right when he pointed out that I am not in his league as a doctor. He has already done things for Mr. Park that I would never have thought of. Also he is using his own case and experience to help him. I don't think I would have been able to save his leg, probably not even his life had we not done the surgery. I regret it, I hate it, but I have to live with it. As do you."

"Yeah, I suppose so. It just isn't as easy now, when we know more. I better go and see my client so that I can finish up and go home to my husband."

"You will keep in touch, though?" Cuddy asked.

"I will," Stacy promised. "I just don't think I will come visiting any time soon."

---------------

Chase had got to work early that morning. He didn't really have anything important to do, as his one patient was doing well, but he felt too impatient to stay home. Chase was waiting for House when he got to work, at his usual late hour.

"Problems with your patient?" House asked as a greeting.

"No, Mrs. Simon is just fine," Chase denied. "In fact, now that Stacy has helped her start the process of getting rid of her biggest pain, her husband, she is doing very well. Her kids also came by yesterday and totally side with their mother. It looks like Mr. Simon will end up being one very miserable man."

"Fine. Not interesting, really, but good for her." House remarked. "So what was it that brought you to me, then? Need time off? A pay-raise? – neither are going to happen, so if that was it, save yourself the trouble and go away."

"I haven't slept these last three nights," Chase started.

"Ah, insomnia!" House exclaimed. "Let me write you a prescription."

"Sorry House," Chase did not seem regretful at all. "You are not getting out of this that easy. I am going to say what I have to say and you are going to listen to me."

"Ooo, mutiny!" House shook in his shoes. "Should I be scared?"

"Very," Chase said dryly. "Look, since you told me that I need to decide if I want to be a doctor or not, I have been up at nights trying to figure out what I am, who I am and what I want. I cannot ignore the fact that Rowan Chase was my father, and I know you didn't mean that I should when you suggested that I take him out of the equation. But I have tried to find out what choices in my life have been directly due to him and what the things that I have truly wanted are. Problem is I can't think of anything that I wanted."

"That could cause a problem or two when you try to figure out what you want to do," House nodded.

"Yea. Foreman told me once that his father always credits God when Foreman does something well, and if he does something wrong, it's his own fault. Of course, Foreman has a father who loves him, even if he could give Foreman a little more credit. My father had only one god and that was Rowan Chase. And I was expected to have the same god. I'm fairly sure I went to the Seminar because there, at least, the God had a different name." Chase paced back and forth.

"But still a jealous God," House reminded him.

"Possibly the reason I didn't last there, - in addition to my Father's influence, of course. I went to medical school because my father wanted me to. I specialised as an Intensivist because that was as far from Rheumatology as I could get at the time. I came to the States to get as much distance as I could between us, yet I stayed in medicine, which meant that every time I said my name, I would be asked if I was related to the great Rowan Chase. So far my every choice has been either because of him, or in order to get away from him. It has been very difficult to try and think what it is that I really want. What it is that I really am?" Chase looked almost tortured. House decided not to comment.

"You said that my father expected his genes to kick in and make a doctor out of me. I thought about that, and came to the conclusion, that if he wanted to credit his genes for my success, then he had to credit his success on the genes he had got from his parents. I did not choose to be a doctor, but I think – at least by now – medicine has chosen me. This really is what I want to do. I may not like the idea that I'm a doctor because my father was one, but on the other hand, he too was just a depository on the way for the genes in me that make me one." Chase sighed deeply. "I don't know much about my father's family. He never spoke of them. He might have told me something had I asked, but I didn't want to know. But I suppose they live in me and whatever it was that they were make me what I am. I know you are not interested in my musings or reasons, but the end result of this all is that I do want to be a doctor. I do want you to renew my fellowship. I do want to learn more."

"You are sure?" House asked. "This is not just lack of sleep speaking?"

"I'm sure," Chase asserted. "I may end up deciding that I want a different speciality from intensive care, but I do want to be a doctor."

"Well, that was really all you needed to tell me!" House insisted. "No need to go all deep and soulful on me."

"I know," Chase said. "But since I had to go through the torture because of something you said, I felt the least you owed me was to share some of it by listening."

"Thanks for the consideration," House sniped. "You had your say, now go and do something doctorly."

------------------------------

Later that day House got another visitor into his office. Soo brought her father in, in a wheelchair. He had been to see a physiotherapist to plan the rehab and on the way back had asked his daughter to bring him to House.

"I see you have been able to leave your bed for a moment," House greeted them.

"Indeed. The pain has subsided so that I manage now on pills, the waste of the dead cells has gone and my doctors tell me the real healing has started." Mr. Park said.

"I'm glad," House nodded. "Though I have to warn you, we still don't know the final results."

"I know, I have been warned," Mr. Park told him. "I understand that the biggest worry is still the pain."

"It is," House admitted. "So far things look good. However the fact that the pain has subsided as hoped does not mean that it cannot come back. Hopefully, if it does come back, it won't be constant but just intermittent, though naturally we are aiming for no pain at all."

"That would definitely be my preference," Mr. Park agreed.

"Quite understandably," House smiled wryly. "I would not recommend chronic pain as an alternative to anyone."

"I know that you don't care for thanks," Mr. Park said. "But I still want to thank you for everything you have done. And not just what you have done for me but what you have done for my daughter. She will be a better doctor with this experience."

"It was interesting to find out how that treatment worked," House explained. "I have always wanted to know. As for your daughter, well, she'll do."

"Thank you, Dr. House," Soo replied with slight irony, but she was smiling widely.

"Don't let it go to your head," House advised. "You still have a long way to go."

"I know, Dr. House," Soo replied seriously. "But I intend to do my best."

"Which reminds me," House turned in his chair and got something from a drawer. "My Mother came by this morning on her way to her meeting with a therapist. She said that you ought to have some kind of token as a mark for _courage under fire_. I think she found it rather impressive that you had threatened to beat me up with my own cane if I don't agree to take your father's case."

"Soo? What is Dr. House talking about?" Mr. Park was startled.

"She better tell you the story yourself," House said. "Here, this is what I promised my Mother to pass on to you. Catch." He threw a small box to Soo.

Soo was puzzled but she opened the box to look inside. "Oh. ... You really mean for me to have this?"

"Promised my Mother," House shrugged. "You don't expect me to go against my Mother's wishes, now do you?"

"No, of course not," Soo took a little jade duckling out of the box. It hung on a thin silver chain. "Thank you. It is lovely. Please thank your mother for me."

"Will do." House promised lightly.

"I think we better leave Dr. House to his work, then," Mr. Park said smiling at his daughter and her pleasure. "And while you wheel me to my room you can tell me what it was that you did to impress Dr. House's mother this much."


	45. Visit House Day

When House got back to his office after his clinic duty, Stacy was waiting for him.

"Did someone declare this _Visit Greg Day_ and forgot to tell me about it," House wondered.

"Why?" Stacy asked. "Have you had such a stream of visitors then?"

"Chase was waiting for me when I got to work, Mother dropped by, Soo brought her Father to see me, now you are here," House catalogued. "I'm just wondering if I should prepare myself for a parade or something next."

"You do know that it is Christmas time?" Stacy funned him. "Time of good will and visiting friends bringing comfort and joy?"

"You mean the _bah, humbug_ thing?" House clarified.

"I knew you would get it," Stacy smiled.

"So is that why you came by?" House inquired.

"I came to say goodbye," Stacy informed him. "I have done what I can for Mrs. Simon and I'm driving home this afternoon."

"Mark must be happy to have you home," House nodded.

"He won't be home himself till tomorrow morning," Stacy told him.

"Doesn't change the fact that he must be happier with you home than here," House shrugged.

"I spoke with him on the phone each evening," Stacy said. "He had no problem with me being here."

"I'm sure he didn't," House laughed with some irony.

"He is no longer paranoid," Stacy informed House. "Our marriage is fine, he is healthy again, and he is no longer subject to irrational fits of jealousy."

"How about rational ones?" House asked. "After all if he suspects that something has happened between us, it's not irrational, because something did."

"He doesn't know about it," Stacy said. "I saw no reason to tell him as it would just have hurt him for no good reason."

"Yes, I remember you said something like that," House pondered. "That if he never knew it would never hurt. I'm just not totally convinced it works that way."

"Look, do we have to go over all the old ground," Stacy decided to change the subject. "I just came to say goodbye and Merry Christmas."

"And Merry Christmas to you, too, then," House responded.

"By the way, I'm glad you and Wilson made up," Stacy said as she stood up and took her bag and coat. House turned to give her a searching look.

"You came to see me last night," He suddenly claimed. "Only you changed your mind when you saw Wilson."

"Don't be silly," Stacy denied. "Why would I have tried to visit you last night when I knew I would be able to see you just as well here, today?"

"Good question," House acknowledged. "Why did you?"

"I didn't," Stacy insisted. "You are just jumping to conclusions. It's not like it is a secret that you and James are talking to each other again!"

"But it is," House pointed out. "Nobody saw us make up last night, and this morning Wilson has been closeted with his patient all day and I have not seen him, which also means that nobody has seen him with me, either. As far as the hospital gossips know, Wilson and I are still mortal enemies."

"Obviously James has said something to someone," Stacy tried to prevaricate. "How else would I know about it?"

"By having seen us _kiss and make up_ and the only way you could have seen it, was by having been outside my flat when Wilson came with the take-away." House concluded.

"Oh, come on," Stacy decided to try a diversion. "You say that like you and Wilson were having sex while I was gnashing my teeth outside."

"For all you know that is what we did. I mean, aren't we the classic case: both unable to sustain long-term relationships, both happy to spend time together without any female company, Wilson runs to me between marriages. I could go on with the list," House suggested.

"Give it up, Greg. I know you are straight," Stacy laughed.

"I can't see how you could know," House shrugged. "You have no evidence."

"Oh, I think I do," Stacy leered.

"That is not conclusive," House pointed out. "There are plenty of wives in this country who are absolutely convinced that their husbands are straight, until they find him in bed with the son's football coach. But you are right, I'm straight. And as far as I know, so is Wilson."

"Told you so," Stacy quipped.

"So we have established that Wilson came over for take-away and TV," House mused. "But we are still in the dark on the reasons why you were there."

"I wasn't," Stacy insisted. "I have no reason what so ever why I would need to come and see you at your flat."

"Maybe," House didn't sound convinced. "Unless you thought you could get the same service that someone else had received, too. Did you plan on tipping me more than 20 bucks for it?"

"I did not come to see you last night," Stacy was gnashing her teeth. "And most certainly I did not come to see you in order to have sex with you!"

"I think you did," House taunted.

"You are just letting your imagination run wild," Stacy insisted. "Are these disgusting accusations your way of punishing me for what I did to your leg?"

"Why would I punish you for that now?" House asked. "It was a long time ago."

"But now we know that I might have been wrong," Stacy pointed out. "That had I not given permission for the surgery you really might have got your leg back. That you were right."

"Nothing has changed as far as I'm concerned," House denied.

"Nothing? How can you say that, when you have just shown, conclusively, that you were right?"

"I've know all along that I was right," House shrugged. "The only change is that now you know it, too. For me there is no change. So there is no new reason for me to punish you."

"I was not at your flat last night," Stacy enunciated just before she stalked out of the room.

"Yes, you were," House stated to her departing back.

-------------------

Later that night House sat by his piano letting his fingers find their own way on the keys. He had a glass of whiskey waiting for him on the top of the piano and he was thinking back to the day he had had. Or actually he was thinking back to Cameron. She had been quiet all day, and he had been unsure if he should approach her. He knew he had been wrong to kiss her, and he actually considered apologizing for it. He just didn't know how. He was not very good at apologies. Before he could even decide that he was going to apologize, let alone come up with any kind of plan for it, there was a knock on the door. He hoped it was not Cameron, but he decided to open the door anyway.

"Wow, it really is _Visit House Day_," House concluded as he found Mark Warner at his doorstep.

"House," Mark greeted. "Can I come in?"

"Stacy is not here," House said without moving.

"I know," Mark nodded. "She already called me that she had made it home safely."

"And you hot-footed it right to my door?" House queried. "Should I be flattered?"

"I want to talk with you," Mark didn't take the bait. "About Stacy."

"Your wife, your problem," House stated. "I think I told you that once already."

"Look, I don't want to discuss this on your doorstep, please let me come in," Mark asked. House relented and let him in. "Thank you."

"So have your say, then," House invited.

"Look, I know that Stacy has feelings for you still," Mark explained. "I called her hotel last night and she wasn't there. I need to know if she was here."

"Why did you call her hotel and not her mobile if you wanted to talk to her? Or did you just want to check up on her movements and not talk to her?" House asked.

"Never mind why, I sure wasn't happy with the results," Mark shrugged. "Just tell me if she was here."

"No, she wasn't," House stated.

"I don't believe you," Mark insisted. "If she wasn't here, where could she have been?"

"In a singles bar getting drunk and having sex with total strangers! How would I know? She was not here," House repeated.

"So nothing has happened between you two?" Mark sounded unsure.

"Nothing like that, you can ask Wilson if you don't believe me, he was here last night," House said.

"You are sure you were with Wilson last night?" Mark wanted to make sure.

"Yes!" House rolled his eyes. "I may be a pathetic addict but I'm not yet suffering from memory loss. Wilson was here last night, we had had a lover's quarrel and he came over with food and some TLC."

"Don't try to make it sound like you two are lovers," Mark groused. "You are straight."

"Everybody tells me that," House shook his head. "Do I have it tattooed on my forehead or something?"

"Pretty much," Mark replied with a slightly lighter voice.

"Fine! But that still does not mean that I'm hustling your wife," House insisted.

"I suppose," Mark sighed. "But you are a bit of a sore point in our marriage."

"Hey! Not _our_ marriage, **yours**! Your marriage, your problem. Don't go putting me in the middle of anything," House instructed him.

"You are right," Mark agreed. "I'm sorry, I should not have come. Thanks for letting me in and ... just thanks." Mark turned and left the flat.

Well, apparently the marriage wasn't quite as solid as Stacy had wanted him to believe. House sat back down at his piano and took his whiskey. He sipped it slowly trying to gauge the feelings he had about the state of Stacy's marriage. Was he happy that there was trouble? Did he want to call Stacy and try and see if he could get her back? Did he still have feelings for her? House downed his drink and sighed. Yes, there were still some feelings, but mostly just nostalgia. He was not the same man who had once lived with Stacy and he was fairly sure she had changed, too. No, there was nothing in him left that really wanted to go back to Stacy, anymore. May her marriage live long and prosper!


	46. Ducklings and swans

Next morning House was at a jeweller with his mother. He had called her first thing and asked for her help, which she was happy to give.

"Is it too much?" House asked his mother.

"No, I don't think so. Even from the little you were willing to tell me, she deserves it," Blythe said.

"If she has any gumption she will throw it in my face," House agreed. "This is not a good idea, Mom. I think we should just leave."

"Oh, no, Greg," Blythe absolutely refused to let him leave. "You wanted to do this, and you will do this. Now just be a good boy and make your purchase."

"Mother, I'm not five!" House protested.

"Are you sure?" His mother wondered. "After all it is typical for five year old boys to pull the girls by their braids and things like that."

"Fine, let's get it over with, then." House agreed. "Are you sure she will like it?"

"Yes, I am. It looks just like her," Blythe encouraged her son.

"Ok," House turned to the saleslady, "I'll take that, would you wrap it up for me, and put this inside as well." House took a small white card and wrote something on it, both sides. Before she could give it to the lady his mother took it and read it. "Hey! Some privacy here, please." House demanded, though he did smile.

"Just wanted to make sure you didn't spoil things at the last moment," Blythe defended herself.

"Well did I?" House asked.

"No. That should do the trick just nicely," Blythe smiled.

"If this blows in my face, I will blame you, you know," House told her.

"I know, but it won't. I promise," Blythe reassured him.

--------------------------

House spent most of the day at the clinic. Though he found it mind numbingly boring, he didn't send any patients to Cuddy with complaints. Mostly because he knew that Cuddy had accepted his mother's invitation for Christmas dinner the next day and would certainly rat him to his mother the moment they met.

Before he had gone to the clinic he had stopped at the diagnostics and seen signs of Cameron. She wasn't in when he was there, but her coat was hanging on the stand and her laptop was on the table. House had pondered for a moment how to go about his plan, but in the end he put the small parcel he had for Cameron in the pocket of her coat. He just hoped that he had left the building by the time she found it. True, he would have to face the music, so to speak, next day as Cameron, too was coming to the dinner. According to his mother both Foreman and Chase were coming, too. Foreman was also bringing a girlfriend. House hoped that it wasn't a drug rep again. The man deserved better. Well, almost any man deserved better.

Having finished his clinic duty for the day, House went to see Cuddy, who predictably and naturally was in her office.

"You know, all work and no play make Lisa a very dull girl," House opened the conversation.

"Like you cared," Cuddy huffed.

"Well, it is Christmas," House shrugged. "I'm told one is supposed to care this time of the year."

"Yeah, and you are just brimming with the milk of human kindness!" Cuddy sneered.

"Obviously not as much as you are," House goaded her.

"House, why did you come? Obviously not to wish me merry Christmas or anything," Cuddy asked.

"Well, if you insist I could do that too," House shrugged, "but I really wanted to talk about Soo Park."

"Soo? What about her? Did she do something wrong?" Cuddy was concerned.

"Why would you think she did something wrong?" House wondered.

"Because you want to talk about her," Cuddy explained. "You never have anything nice to say about anyone, so I assumed she must have done something that you want to complain about. Though I have to warn you, I will not believe you."

"Right, just make up your mind even before you hear the facts," House huffed. "What does it matter to you that the medical students pick on the cripple and threaten him with violence."

"What are you talking about?" Cuddy was completely lost.

"Just that Soo took my cane and threatened to beat me with it," House whined.

"What did you do to her?" Cuddy was up in arms immediately. "Did you make a pass at her after all?"

"Right, blame me," House pouted. "It couldn't possibly be that I was completely innocent of any wrongdoing in all that."

"House, cut the crap and just tell me what happened!" Cuddy insisted.

"Ok, fine, if you refuse to be any fun there is nothing I can do," House complained. "I didn't come to talk to you about Soo trying to beat me up, but I might as well tell you. When Soo first came to me about her father, I didn't want to listen, so she took my cane and told me that if I refused to help her father she would beat me with it."

"Seriously?" Cuddy couldn't believe her ears.

"Yep. She has guts that girl, when she is fighting for something that is important to her."

"Wow. There are grown men who wouldn't dare do that," Cuddy admired.

"So do you wonder I decided to have her around for a while," House asked.

"Is that why you took her on?" Cuddy realised. "Damn, did you make her completely miserable?"

"Not completely," House denied. "Just enough."

"I wish I had known. I would have put a stop to it."

"Which is why I didn't tell you," House pointed out. "But she came through with pretty much flying colours. And that is what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What do you mean," Cuddy asked.

"I just wanted to tell you to keep an eye on her. She will be just the sort of doctor you want to lure back here when the time is ripe." House answered.

"What do you mean _lure back_," Cuddy wondered. "She is already here."

"Sure she is, but she needs experience from other hospitals first, before she will be an asset here," House reminded Cuddy. "In fact you could help her with that, you have the connections. You could mentor her career."

"Why me? Why not you?" Cuddy wanted to know.

"My attention span is too short," House dismissed. "Besides, for me to recommend someone without somebody dragging the recommendation out of me with torture would be so unheard of that it would hinder her more than help."

"You are probably right," Cuddy had to concede. "It would cause a lot of questions and people would start to wonder why you are so interested in her career. Ok, I think I will keep an eye on her. If she seems to fulfil what you promise I will certainly be happy to help her with her future."

"Good," House nodded. "See you tomorrow then."

"Barring an epidemic of plague or something," Cuddy agreed.

"It there is an epidemic of plague you will definitely see me tomorrow," House reminded her on his way out.

----------------------

Cameron had worked all day. Not very hard but nearly without any breaks. She did love Christmas, but she didn't really want to spend it with her family or even friends except in small doses. She felt at home in the hospital. It was easy to explain to her parents that she wanted to make sure that those doctors who had children could spend Christmas with them and therefore her volunteering for Christmas duty was acceptable. She had faithfully promised that once she had a family, she would try to get time off during Christmas when at all possible. She didn't tell them that as time went by she saw less and less chance of having a family of her own. She sure wasn't going to get one as long as she was hopelessly in love with House.

She was going to see him the next day. She knew that nothing she did was going to make him see her as a potential date – let alone a mate – but she knew that she found her beautiful, so she was going to go all out and make herself look as stunning as she could. She would never forget his reaction to her red dress at the last charity event in the hospital. He had even forgotten the patient for a second. Sure, this was a Christmas dinner, so she couldn't quite pull the same look this time, but she was sure she could come up with something.

She wasn't sure she was going to enjoy the dinner even so. She knew that she didn't need to feat House showing up with another woman – Pam was moving to Washington State, after all – but she also knew that John House would be wondering when House would finally settle down with some woman. And he could very well do it in her presence as he thought she was way too young to be interested in his son. If only he knew! Blythe, of course, knew exactly how Cameron felt about House. In fact, Cameron rather thought she had Blythe's approval. If only that was all that was needed.

Well, that was for the next day. Today she still had to get to home, select the dress for tomorrow and see that it was ready to wear, and check if there was something else she needed to do tonight. Cameron got her things together and was ready to go; she put her coat on and tried her pocket with some puzzlement. She was sure she hadn't left anything in her pockets when she got to work, but now there was definitely something in one of them. She fished a small parcel out of the pocket. It looked like a Christmas present.

Cameron frowned. Who had put it there? She hadn't seen anyone today. At least not in the diagnostics. Of course it could be almost anyone from the hospital, it was not like the doors had been locked or anything. She took her coat off again and sat down at the table. She stared at the parcel. It looked like it had been wrapped at the store, which almost definitely meant it was from a man. Hey, brilliant deduction, girl! All your co-workers were men. Chase or Foreman? She couldn't see either of them as the givers of this gift. Maybe she had a secret admirer? House was out of the question in any case. Especially as this parcel looked like it might have come from a jeweller.

Well, the only way to find out was to open it. Hopefully there was a card inside, as there was none outside. Cameron unwrapped carefully the paper and revealed the box. She still stared at it for a few minutes before she dared to open it. Finally she had gathered enough courage to open the box. Inside she found a gold and enamel pendant in the shape of a swan. It wasn't very big but it was exquisite. She wasn't sure, but it looked like it might be antique from the early 20th century, Art Noveau or Art Deco. It hung on a gold chain. When she put it on her neck it nestled safely between her breasts. She could hide it under her blouse if she wanted to wear it unseen. Cameron couldn't believe her eyes! It was so beautiful! Who would give her something like it? She took the card that had been resting under the pendant and read it.

_There are things that even I apologize for..._ stood on one side of the card. She turned it.

_... just don't go all mushy on me!_ ... was written on the other side.

Cameron smiled but she also had to wipe tears from her eyes. As apologies went, this was the best she had ever had, because she knew he really meant it. Gregory House did not go to this much trouble over an apology he didn't mean.


	47. Casket of Gold

On the morning of the 25th House was feeling extremely nervous. He had half expected Cameron to appear at his doorstep the night before, but she hadn't. And he was not quite sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. At least she hadn't stormed over to throw the swan in his face, so he decided to be cautiously optimistic. All in all it looked like Cameron was not going to contact him before the dinner, and she was unlikely to throw things – or even words – at him with his mother watching.

His phone rang startling him out of his musings.

"Yes," he said to the phone.

"It's Cuddy, morning and Merry Christmas," Cuddy's voice replied.

"Merry Christmas to you, too," House answered suspiciously. "To what do I owe the honour of this phone call?"

"No need to sound so suspicious," Cuddy stated. "I just thought to ask you if you need another injection. Since you are spending big part of the day with your parents, especially your father, I thought I better check. I don't want you to ruin your Mother's Christmas with extra grumpiness."

"Well, I'm sure my Mother is grateful for your consideration, but I'm ok. It seems I am past the peak again, for a while." House reassured Cuddy.

"Are you sure?" Cuddy didn't sound very reassured.

"I think I can tell when I'm hurting without second opinion," House pointed out. "Why do you doubt me?"

"I just thought that the stress and all would affect you," Cuddy sounded a little evasive. "But if you are ok, then fine."

"This is about Stacy, right?" House asked. "You are buying into Wilson's theory that Stacy had something to do with the worsening of my pain the last time she left me, so you are now presuming I must be in pain again, since she went home last night."

"Well fine, I was concerned," Cuddy admitted. "But if you are ok, so much better."

"I'm fine," House stated. "Stacy has nothing to do with me or my health."

"Ok then, since you don't need an injection I get back to work," Cuddy said.

"You do that," House suggested. "And don't think that I didn't get you plan B, either."

"What plan B?" Cuddy had to ask.

"The one where you lure me to the clinic with promises of an injection and then draft me into seeing patients," House laughed.

"Drat, foiled again," Cuddy laughed back. "See you at your Mother's."

--------------------

House had promised his mother to be on time, in fact he had promised to be there to greet the other guests. Normally he would have forgotten his promise without a qualm, but this was his mother, so he dutifully knocked on the door of his parents flat exactly on the time he had promised. His mother opened the door and greeted him with a hug and a kiss. He shook hands with his father, which was a bit awkward and stiff after the greeting he had given his mother, but it was the best he could do. His words were civil enough.

Blythe took her son to the bar and told him to get himself a drink and then give people what they wanted as they arrived. House asked if that shouldn't be John's job, but Blythe told him that John had more than his hands full with baby-sitting her. To which John complained that it was just impossible to get her to rest as Foreman had ordered.

"I feel fine," Blythe insisted. "I know that rest is important and the moment I feel like getting tired I will sit down. I will even go to the bedroom for a nap if need be, after all our guests are mostly doctors so it's not like they wouldn't understand. But I see no reason to rest _just in case_."

"Well, mother, I hate to rain on your parade, but resting for _just in case_ is very advisable with MG," House had to point out. "Pacing your day and having regular breaks, even naps, is important in managing your condition, though I do agree that you have a very mild case of it so far. But if we want to keep it that way, so you need to follow the instructions you have been given."

"Not you, too, Greg!" Blythe moaned.

"Sorry, Mother," House didn't sound very repentant. "If you didn't want me to have an opinion about this, you should have stopped me from going to medical school."

"There you have it, Blythe," John told her. "Doctor's orders."

"Fine," Blythe relented. "I will start following them tomorrow. Today, you will just have to let me do what I want. Too late for anything else anyway." Blythe smiled at her men as there was a knock on the door.

The quests arrived very close to each other. Only Cameron was still missing. House got a little nervous again, though he was absolutely sure that Cameron would not stay away without calling Blythe to cancel. Since she hadn't called, she was coming. But she sure was taking her sweet time, and House wanted to know if his gesture was about to blow in his face or if it had gone as he wanted.

-----------------------

Cameron was sitting in her car outside the building. She hadn't sat there long, just a couple of minutes to make sure she had the courage to go in. She had changed her outfit at least five times, and she had done her hair in at least five different ways and she was nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. She checked her appearance one more time, the best she could with the small mirror she had, and then she stood out of the car and went in.

She walked to the door and knocked. Blythe opened it for her and invited her in kissing her on the cheek. John took her coat and she was told to go to Greg to get herself a drink. She greeted the other guests on her way to him, taking her time though she could feel his eyes on her.

House was watching her make her way towards him. She looked stunning. She was wearing a red pullover with a very wide collar which let her shoulders peak out and a wide black velvet skirt. On her neck she had the swan. Well, obviously she had accepted his peace offering, now it just remained to be seen if she read more into it than he wanted to. Cameron had finally reached the drinks table.

"Hi," she said to House. "Merry Christmas."

"Bah, humbug," House returned her greeting making her smile even wider. "What would you want to drink?"

"Some white wine would be nice," Cameron responded. "Unless you are saving it all for the _Ghost of Christmas present_."

"He doesn't drink so that is no problem," House responded pouring her a glass.

"How fortunate for me," Cameron said. "And thank you." She put her hand on her pendant to indicate that she was thanking him for that, too.

"You are welcome," House said, not meeting her eyes.

"I'm just curious about one thing," Cameron started.

"Please, didn't I ask you not to go mushy on me?" House pleaded.

"I'm not going mushy on you, I got all the mushy stuff out of the way last night when nobody was watching," Cameron insisted. "I just wanted to know if this means that you like me, after all."

"That is mushy stuff!" House told her. "And it means that I don't hate you."

"Isn't that the same thing?" Cameron wanted to know.

"Not quite," House denied. "_I don't hate you_ means that I don't want to hurt you. I won't stop you from hurting yourself, you need to learn for yourself to stay away from the fire, but I was out of line... Well you know when, and you did not deserve that."

"But I was out of line with my accusations, too," Cameron reminded him.

"Yes, but that is not the first time I have been accused of something I haven't done. You weren't even the first to accuse me of that one, if you remember. I didn't punch Wilson so why did I ... punch you? You didn't deserve that. Words would have been quite enough." House explained with his eyes on the floor.

"So this just says that you don't hate me," Cameron wanted to know for sure.

"It also says that I'm sorry," House dragged the words out of his mouth with force. "And that I don't want you to quit because of my asinine behaviour. I've sort of gotten used to having you around. You are the one of my ducklings that keeps me from doing too outrageous things to my patients. You are the conscience in the team."

"So you didn't choose a swan for me because you think I could be one?" Cameron asked. House was not quite sure if there was disappointment in her voice.

"I think you could be one, in time, when you grow up," House stated.

"And what will happen when I become a swan?" There was certain kind of hope in Cameron's voice that House recognised, though he had very much wanted to avoid giving her any false signals.

"Swans don't live in duck ponds," House told her. "They fly away."

"Always?" Cameron inquired.

"If they know what is good for them," House nodded.

"But what if they come back?"

"Why would they?" House asked in turn. "To check up on the dirty old drake? Not going to happen."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite sure."

"You could be wrong," Cameron said.

"It has happened," House had to admit. "But it is very rare."

"So are some swans," Cameron stated with an enigmatic smile and walked away with her drink to mingle with the rest of the quests.

------------------

Cuddy was standing with Blythe watching the interaction between House and Cameron.

"What is going on there," Cuddy wondered as they were too far away to catch any of the dialogue.

"Possibly the beginning of something that may, in time, develop into something else," Blythe smiled.

"I know Cameron has been in love with your son from almost the moment she set eyes on him, but are you telling me that House, too has feelings?"

"Of course he has feelings," Blythe laughed. "But if you mean feelings for Dr. Cameron, no I don't think so. Not at the moment – except for the obvious ones, of course. She is a beautiful girl and he has red blood in his veins. But I think that she has it in her to capture him, when she grows into a swan."

"Swan?" Cuddy asked. "She is not exactly an ugly duckling even now."

"But she is still a duckling," Blythe said. "She is much younger than my son, but if she matures the way I think she will, the age difference will only be a good thing. But I'm just seeing the potential of what may come to be. Or it might not. Don't worry Lisa; I'm not holding my breath waiting for them to get together."

"I think that is a wise thing, since frankly, I really cannot see it happening," Cuddy stated. "Stacy was an independent, strong woman and she didn't last."

"They were in some ways too much alike," Blythe mused. "I don't think we can predict what will happen with Greg and Allison based on what happened with Stacy and Greg."

"I'm sorry, I really wish you could be right, but your prediction for Greg and Allison sounds so much like wishful thinking," Cuddy had to say.

"I know, and I am aware of it," Blythe said. "But I am a mother, and you can't blame me for wanting my son to be happy, to want him to be whole. To wish, that the _wrong of the unshapley things_ could be remade."

"What was that?" Cuddy asked. "It sounded familiar."

"It was from a poem by Yeats: _All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old/ The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart/ The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould/ Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. / The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; / I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart/ With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold / For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart._" Blythe recited for Cuddy.

------------------------------------

In conclusion:

The Christmas dinner went well, all in all. House and his father remained civil with each other and all had a good time. Two days later Blythe and John returned home and House was able to breathe easy again, unlike the people who had to work with him, now that his mother's presence was no longer curbing the worst of his behaviour. The ducklings especially noted the return to normal.

Mr. Park had his final check up six months later. He was pain free and though his injured leg was still a little weaker than his other leg, it was fully functional.

Mrs. Simon got her divorce; her husband got some jail-time for embezzlement.

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_And here endeth the lesson._

_Thank you all, especially BlkDiamond, for all your support with my little (ok, not so little in the end) story and especially all the questions that kept me on track. This has been fun, but I do have a living to earn, so I have to end this story and just get my fix with occasional one-shots._


End file.
